Blossom Comes To The Sofa
by Michaele Jordan
Seeker didn’t sit on the big sofa often. Jaimie claimed that Blossom had bullied her off it, but Robin replied that Blossom didn’t sit on it much either, except in the middle of the night , when both cats slept on it. Together. Robin – who often slept badly – was a witness. Was the big sofa not attractive in the daytime, when it was a hub of human traffic?
Anyway, Seeker loved the love seat. In winter she curled up behind it, next to the heat vent. Come summer, she perched on top of it. Also, whenever anybody stretched out on it – it was the perfect size to double as a recliner – Seeker was in their lap immediately. Whether it was Robin, unable to sleep and not wanting to disturb Jaimie with her tossing and turning; or Jaimie’s ex, hugely amicable and out of work again; or Robin’s kid brother – it didn’t matter who it was, they found Seeker in their lap. They all found there was nothing more soporific than a purring cat in your lap.
Eventually, Blossom realized that she had been cut out of a large segment of the household cuddling, and took to jealously sleeping on the love seat herself, smack dab in the middle of it, so neither human nor cat could sit there without facing her down. (This freed Seeker to perch on the big sofa.)
Blossom did not grasp that the loveseat was all about lap sitting.
Robin had often come to the love seat, picked up big old Blossom (who was a serious meatloaf of a cat) and tried to lie down with her. Nobody but Robin could pick up Blossom. Others had tried. Others had lost blood. But Robin had established dominance early in their relationship and could manage it with a minimum of fuss and ill feeling. Not when the love seat was involved, however.
Blossom would tolerate the picking up but, upon being released, she would stalk away with that special affronted arrogance only a cat could project. She would not sit lap-sit on the love seat. Period. End of story.
Seeker would instantly claim the empty place, leaving Blossom bewildered, as to how she had somehow lost the encounter.
And then one night . . . it happened. Did a sleep-deprived Robin hold her differently? Or was Blossom too weary to fight? No matter. Robin picked up the cat, and held her all during the process of lying down and pulling up the extra-large afghan one-handed. When Robin finally settled in and released her, Blossom sighed, thought it over and remained seated on Robbin’s chest. She didn’t run. She started to purr. As Robin explained later, “Blossom’s not quite brainless. She can, given some practice, learn a new thing.”
Robin’s next mission: to lure Seeker back to the lap, while Blossom was still chest-sitting higher up. Was this even possible? Despite territorial disputes and mealtime squabbles the cats didn’t get along all that badly. Robin could only hope.
