…how to refinish a needlepoint chair from the perspective of my cat

AAAAAAAH! A large, scary monster come to hurt me!

Oh, it’s just a chair.

AAAAAAAH! She is going to smush me with that chair! But, no. She is putting it on top of the place where I sunbathe. Why would she put it way up there? Oh, she wants me to lounge on it. It’s a lounging chair for me. Yes, that’s nice. Much better than the end of the couch. Now I am high up and can view the rest of the room from up here. She wanted me to be higher than her because I am like the king in this home. How nice. Maybe I do like her.

Green string? How stupid. I’m not playing with that and she certainly doesn’t need to decorate my chair. It doesn’t even match my fur. Maybe if she could just shift it slightly to the left so the sun could reach my belly a bit more.

Oh! I get it. She wants to play! No? She doesn’t want to play? What is that deep voice coming from her mouth, snapping my name. If she doesn’t want to play then she shouldn’t stick that paint brush anywhere near my paws. Duh.

Purrrrr. It’s Greta. Okay, Greta put that ugly green string on my throne.

DINNER! I will return.

Blast. It is my brother Owen. He has always wanted to usurp me. Try as you may, but you will never take me down, Brother.

Oh, thank God. She’s taking off the green string. It really wan’t working for me. Wha, Wait. Where are you taking my throne? To the family room?

NOOOOOOOO!

And what is that ugly white thing?

A stuffed lamb? A toy? I’ve been replaced by a child’s toy? She will not be finding me at the end of her bed tonight. No sir. I may even ignore her for a whole day after this. And dinner better be on time.