My Ottoman, Myself: A Cat's Ode to Comfort
I’m exhausted. I’ve been trying to keep up with a kitten for several weeks, and it’s finally catching up with me. This little furball is really high energy. He sleeps only 16 hours a day, and when he's up he’s constantly jumping on the furniture, trying to eat Daddy’s breakfast, and picking fights with a cat larger than he is.
And to make matters worse, he doesn’t have any of the expectations that an older cat like myself has. This column doesn’t write itself. I have to pose for photos. Every week, this assignment is a good two to three hours of my life that I’m never going to get back.
Do you think he has any appreciation that one of us has to bring in some cash to keep the kibble train running? Of course not. He’s all, “Let’s go sit on Daddy’s head” and “Why do you beat up on me when I try to sit in your chair?” Both answers are so obvious: “Duh, because it’s my chair, punko!” and “Don’t bother Daddy right now. I’m dictating my column to him.”
So, as a result of all this stress in my life, I’m taking a slow day today. I’m going to spend some time with my best friend, the ottoman. You all may recall the ottoman from my discussion last week. My editor pointed out that most of my photos were in my chair, and not on the ottoman proper, so this week I’m rectifying the error.
One of my favorite things about the ottoman is its downward slant. It lets me lie at an angle, so I can get all squished up into myself. I can’t really describe the sensation, but I’ll try. You know that warm comfy feeling you get when a human gives you scritchie ... of course you don’t, you are a human. But just imagine if you found a piece of furniture in which lying in it made your whole body relax and get all floppy. That’s what it feels like. I know you humans sometimes have chair massagers. An ottoman is like a chair massager for kitties. So, you should get one for your cat. Especially if your cat is me.
I also like that the ottoman is mine. Cats have a strong sense of territory, and apparently I’m not allowed to claim the food dish for myself. “Little guy’s gotta eat,” Daddy says. Daddy can be such a tool. But I have claimed that ottoman. No one sits on it but me. Every once in a while a guest I’ve never met might come over and sit on my chair and put her feet on my ottoman, but that almost never happens. Mostly I just sit on it and everyone is cool.
But, my favorite thing about the ottoman is its myriad manners of use. I can curl up into a little ball on it. I can hang my head over the edge and be floppy. I can lie on my back with my feet up. Seriously, when I flop down on that ottoman, the world becomes my oyster. An oyster is a hard container that you pry open and there is delicious seafood inside, just waiting. I know what you’re thinking -- isn’t the world already your oyster, Mina? Yes, it is. But here’s the deal: The world becomes even more my oyster. Normally, the world is fresh seafood for me, but in the ottoman, that seafood is covered in gravy.
Have I mentioned recently how much I love gravy? Almost as much as I love my ottoman.
Need more Mina? Of course you do. Browse the Mina archives for some high-grade feline contempt.