Posting days: Sunday and Wednesday and, sometimes, maybe, extra ‘news flashes’
Sunday February 5th 2018
Goodness me. Futon seems to be the most frequently mentioned object in the blog. Probably because I have always spent so much lying on it, usually thinking about the tasks that I ought to be doing. Now, hopefully, it will soon be claimed by someone else. I’ve put it on Birmingham Freegle (our local ‘recycle, don’t landfill’) group.
It’s an excellent wooden futon frame, but it doesn’t have a mattress. That might put people off. I found the original one too heavy to handle and very uncomfortable, so I’ve been using foam cushions.
On Thursday the futon is moved away from its space. The reason for its abandonment is the anticipated arrival of a gifted day bed, a delightfully comfortable single-bed sized piece of furniture. It belonged to Polymath who no longer has a use for it.
I love it.
Unfortunately, Isis has different sentiments.
On Sunday, the intruder arrives. It is propped up against the back room wall, waiting to be assembled. As soon as she comes into the room, Isis begins to attack it, dancing and mouthing. She is not exactly aggressive, but definitely aroused. Perhaps she can smell Polymath. Or Adopted Niece, or Daisy. Or even previous dog Ellie. All of them have slept on it many times, as have I.
Her fervid interest amuses me for a while, but after an hour or so it becomes very irritating. I pick her up and place her on the futon. She gets off and returns to her quarry.
Eventually, after numerous attempts to distract her, I bellow, “NO!” She pauses, then realises that she is tired and returns to the futon.
What was that all about? She’s not visibly upset. She’s definitely not afraid. Perhaps she’s challenging it, I decide, just feels that it shouldn’t be there.
On Friday afternoon C. assembles the day bed for me. I can’t wait to sink onto it.
Wonderful. I lie there all evening, waiting for Isis to join me.
Now and again she approaches the bed and sniffs. Then she returns to her futon.
On Saturday morning I make my way downstairs expecting to find white fluff on the bed cover. (Hairy One’s downy undercoat is beginning to loosen. It gradually comes to the surface in dear little wedges and can be plucked out, or gradually frees itself).
No, not a white hair to be found. Clearly, she has stayed on her futon.
Perhaps she is nervous of the new bed after all.
I spend as much time as I can revelling in its comfort: Isis sticks obdurately to her favoured resting place.
This morning I am sure that Hairy One must have succumbed to the delights of the day bed. But no, again not a hair, not a wrinkle in evidence.
When when we retire to our back room den, she snoozes on her futon. Later it’s the futon or her bed or the rug.
Now I’m thinking that her attack on the day bed was an expression of disgust. She is, after all, very attached to her futon.
She sleeps on it every night – in my place, of course – and shares it reluctantly with me at other times. It’s been her sleeping place for more than three years.
I think she is cross with the new bed because it has usurped her futon.
Isis came from the Aeza cat and dog rescue and adoption centre in Aljezur, Portugal. For information about adopting an animal from the centre, contact firstname.lastname@example.org or www.dogwatchuk.co.uk