I. Love. Chair

I'm a dog.  After months of convincing (read: me hopping up when Matt or Alicia would go upstairs and positioning myself to look really cute when they came back downstairs), I was finally given permission to be up on the furniture.  Or at least the armchair in the living room, which Alicia got for $5 back in college.  It has a fairly hideous large floral print which was only recently covered over with a bland also fairly hideous slipcover.

Permission was granted last week after I slept there soundly while Matt and Alicia were out at a cocktail party and Auntie Sarah "puppysat" me while snoozing on the couch.  They thought it was just too cute to continue denying me this simple pleasure.

My first "legal" chair sit. Still not sure if I'm about to be told "No!"

Since then, I've become quite comfortable on my chair, choosing to sleep on it most of the day.  At first, I didn't even want to play or eat.  I just wanted to lay on my chair.  Now that I'm sure they won't take it away, I've gotten back to playing, and also to really making it my own.  They took away the pillow and covered the chair with a free fleece blanket Matt got at a baseball game.  I've covered that blanket with fur.

This was taken yesterday afternoon.  See how comfortable
I've become in such a short time?

I can tell you were laughing at me in that last picture.

As you can see, I was getting quite comfortable. So comfortable, in fact, that I decided I would make a few of my own changes to the chair last night while Alicia and Matt went out to dinner.

That cushion was just too cushiony. 

So I unzipped the slipcover and chewed off some stuffing.

Matt and Alicia seem disappointed in my changes.  They came in, gasped, and just started cleaning up.  I was laying on the floor, showing them my belly, but they were too focused on the cushion to notice.  I went over to lick their faces while they cleaned up, but they didn't seem to like that either.  Oh well.  I was just trying to make some positive change and embrace my new-found freedom of chair and no crate when they leave for short stretches.

They managed to put everything back together, so to the outside observer, everything looks the same, but I heard them mention something about me needing to be in the crate when they go out from now on.  Oops!  At least I'm still allowed on the chair.