This is me, Harley, sitting on, guess what… my couch!

As far as I’m concerned, way back when in 2004 when my human and her son came to the cat rescue shelter where I was living in to find the purr-fect kitten addition to their home, I quickly took matters into my own paws and chose them to be my forever family. I knew I had to make my first and only bold move – there were dozens of cats and kittens living with me – all ridiculously adorable and precious and equally worthy of a new family. How could they possibly make a rational decision without my help? So, I did what I had to – I literally jumped into human Mom’s arms and sealed the deal – she immediately fell for my ploy and instantly fell in love with me and my sweet little face. Minutes later, I found myself inside a cat carrier and for once, did not find it as a hated object associated with the evil vet, and off we went to my new home. That dear readers, is what I brilliantly called “Phase 1” of my well thought out plan to ultimately rule our household universe, or what I like to call it, our (my) couch.

Me, back when I was an adorable little kitten with my human Mom

Phase 2 was relatively painless – jump up and down at feathers attached to a stick, chase little balls with bells inside them, and play with what appeared to be a lifelike, but fake tiny mouse. The humans seemed pleased with my playful, kittenish antics and all was well with the world, other than the fact that I still had Phase 3 to accomplish. Well, several years, and many pounds later, I am completely sedentary, have become quite “fashionably plump,” and have finally achieved my goal so that my life now consists of me residing on a 3’ x 5’ cushion on our couch. Some might say I am lazy – actually almost everyone says that, but I beg to differ. I say I am brilliant – why do I need to be bothered with foolish running, jumping and playing? Apparently, without all that nonsense as offerings of entertainment to my humans like my other feline housemates, I do not need to do that to be fed, have clean litter, or to be loved.

I am quite content to sleep 15 – 20 hours a day on the couch where I can easily see the entire world’s comings and goings from my convenient vantage point. I also have a lot of important things to reflect on. What time will I be fed dinner and how quickly can I eat it so that I can get back to my couch? When are my humans going to settle down for the night on the couch with me to pet me and stare at that rectangular thing that puts them in a trance from 8:00pm to 11:00 pm before they head off to bed? Do I really need to get up and use the litter box, or can I hold it in for just a bit longer? So, as you can see, I really do have a full agenda from my couch.

And certainly, you all must admit, when it mattered most, I took the situation into my own paws and made the best decision of my whole life. Lazy, maybe, but not when it really counted…