The Great Uncovering

Due to my Bunko party, I had the annual Great Uncovering.  It was so grand an event, it made our little parlor appear twice the size!  Whatever could this be?  If a cat or dog belongs to you--let me rephrase that--If you belong to a cat or dog, then you will understand the necessity for swathing your furniture in sheets, towels or blankets to protect it from the ravages of stinky, biting, shedding, clawing, but loving, animals.  We have tattered burgundy towels pinned to the back of our recliners overlaid by matching burgundy sheets.  That, dear readers, was what was removed, hence, the Great Uncovering.

 

note attractive shreds

 

The naked easy chairs left such a positive impression, the room could have been photographed for Good Housekeeping magazine. With the towels and sheets, I think Kennel and Flea magazine would be more fitting.  “Let’s give it a try and leave the chairs uncovered,” I said to Bruce. “Button (aka Little Naughty) will be a good girl.  She’s a year older and won’t shred the furniture.”

 

“Go for it,” Bruce replied, laughing in my face.

 

And so I did—for about 17 minutes.  Ignoring the extra tall scratching post which I read was good because it would draw her attention like a tree outside, she eyeballed the furniture and pounced.  I heard the tearing before I saw it.

 

“No!” I commanded.  To her mind, no means: I’ve got their attention now and atta girl. More claws, sharper claws.  Oh, you missed a spot.  Be sure to include every square inch now.

 

After I lifted her from her hang-ten position on the back of Bruce’s chair, I thought to try the water bottle.  Sitting in my still naked chair when she attacked, I sprayed her with water.  On the chin, the side, the hip, I squirted her.  She retreated to lick and clean herself, only to  return for more and more and more.  When she started smelling the water bottle I placed on the floor beside me for easy access, I realized she was clawing the furniture to get me to spray her!  She was training me! And, too, I remembered that she loves water. ( As a kitten, we found her peeking out, yes out, of the toilet bowl.  It seemed reasonable she would like water because someone once told me if a cat has any orange fur, Button is a calico with orange, black and white fur, they are related to tigers and tigers swim. Believe it or don't.)  

 

Well now, the room, once again, appears smaller since I’ve returned the freshly laundered sheets and towels to their permanent positions.  Bruce suggested I add a white hand towel where the head rests.  We wouldn’t want to soil those ripped sheets, now would we?  Besides, a raggedy old white towel will be a standout against the rich dark burgundy—an interior designer's delight, to be sure.  Sigh…