Another Post About That Free Cat

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Gentle Reader,

So Daddy’s desk chair at The Ranch matched his desk perfectly.  (Aside:  I LOVE Daddy’s desk, like, LOVE IT.  And since he’s practically retired anyway, it only makes sense for him to give it to someone who will use it and love it and squeeze it and call it “George”.  Santa?)  (I’ll trade my desk, if that sweetens the deal?  Mine has sentimental significance…)

But Daddy’s desk chair is the most uncomfortable chair ever created, EVER.  I’m pretty sure he bought it from the same guy who supplies Guantanamo.  It manages to simultaneously hunch you over the (awesome) desk, push you back, make you feel utterly unsupported like the thing was about to give way under you and give you hip pain ALL AT ONCE.  I love a multitasker.

So a few weeks ago, Daddy drove in to the Big City and went to the same fancy back store that sold Mama her desk chair.  (Mama’s desk chair, by contrast, is something designed by blind astronauts and filled with only the most supportive organic unicorn tears.  Which makes sense because she works approximately 37 hours per day sitting in that chair.  It needs to be a fantastic chair.)  He bought himself a better desk chair.  Since I wasn’t there when he picked out the chair, I can’t comment on who made it or what kind of tears fill it.  It looks different from Mama’s chair, Daddy liked it and thought it would support his back in an appropriate fashion, and we have now reached the end of my knowledge on Daddy’s desk chair.

Prior to the acquisition of the New Chair, Scout the Ranch Cat/Trained Killer had kind of taken up with Daddy.  He’d be in his office working/suffering the pain of a thousand knives, and she’d strut in, bat her eyelashes at him, purr, and hop up in between his back and the back of the chair.  (Daddy is the only human on this earth that Scout the Ranch Cat/Trained Killer likes.  Not me, the person who ensured her VERY POSH EXISTENCE at The Ranch, not Mama, the person who feeds her and medicates her and cleans up her “recycling”.  Daddy.  His is a barely contained glee.)  Daddy LOVED it, and she’d stay there for hours on end.  Surveying her empire in snuggled-up bliss.

So naturally when Daddy brought the New Chair in, Scout adopted it, leaving Daddy looking for a folding chair or something else upon which to sit.

Upshot:  Between the Tempur Pedic mattress and the new chair, her posture has NEVER been better.

Goodnight,

Wordie

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