See this cat?
See this chair?
This is my chair. Yes, there is another chair at the table, but I like this chair, because sitting in this chair allows me to watch the hummingbirds at their feeder and keep an eye out, now that it’s flowering, for butterflies who may be attracted to the butterfly bush. (It is heartbreaking to report that I don’t honestly remember seeing a single butterfly so far this year. I am fervently hoping the flowering bush will draw them out.)
Now that summer seems to have finally arrived, it’s lovely to sit in that chair in the morning to enjoy this view. (By afternoon, the garden swing is a more attractive proposition.)
See this cat?
This is Stella. Stella seems to think this is her chair. She is wrong. It is my chair. Stella doesn’t need the view of the hummingbird feeder or the butterfly bush. Stella could use the other chair. It’s completely up for grabs.
Irregardless (a non-word I type with tongue wedged firmly in cheek, following last week’s ridiculous announcement that the Merriam-Webster dictionary – an American dictionary, please note – now thinks it’s an actual word), every time I vacate this chair for a moment, Stella claims it.
Has anyone ever won a battle of wills with a cat?
Anne M. Holmes 
Ha! Last time I was there, she stayed out of your chair, but claimed the other one, mine (during the visit). I remember trying to share with her–no dice–and she’d glare at me after being ousted.
Clearly you need to come back so I can reclaim my chair. 🙂
In my house it’s not the cat, it’s the dog. She knows I sit at the window end of the sofa, but if I so much as get up to get another cup of tea, she will be in my spot when I get back, even if she appeared to be sound asleep at the other end when I got up. Enzo the cat, on the other hand, prefers to mix things up, sleep on one or other bed, or the middle of the couch that no one else uses, the rocking chair, or the hammock bed at the top of his cat tree pole. He appears to have no interest in my seat.