The Green Chair

Above – Scheckter (on ottoman) and Pogo on the green furniture.

Well, the green chair is gone. 

I know, it was just a chair. An ottoman and love seat originally went with the chair. Made of a textured green material, the furniture had straightforward lines and were without embellishment. But they were comfortable and sturdy, and they fit our little study.

The little study was in the first home that we bought in Half Moon Bay, California. It was right off the breakfast nook, by the dining room. Sounds fancy, right, but it was small, yet elegant. It’s where we ended up spending a lot of time. With the windows open, we caught a cooling ocean breeze diluting the sunshine. Fog horn often sounded above the sound of Highway 92 traffic. We could watch television, read, and listen to music in there, and be very cozy. Our living room furniture was too large for the little study. Besides, if we put that furniture in there, we’d need to replace it. More furniture was needed, an exasperating decision.

The green chair with the ottoman supporting my legs is often where I sat. That’s where the cats would join me. We had three then. The elderly Queen, Jade, had joined us when we were stationed on Okinawa in 1982 and was twenty-year when she passed away in our HMB home. The sweet, affable Rocky came from our Germany assignment in the late eighties, the sole survivor of his litter. Later came the black long-haired, handsome fellow, Sam, as direct and unpretentious as his name, abandoned at Moffett NAS when some family moved away. Each gave me happy hours of purrs vising with me in the green chair before passing away.

The orange boys, Pogo and Scheckter, (Chubbosaurus Orange) found their way to us, joining us on the green chair and the green love seat, stretching out in the sunshine. They moved up to Ashland with us in 2005. Between cancer and a car, Ashland is where their story ended.

As we moved, the green furniture dwindled. First, the love seat went, because there wasn’t room in our newest house. The green chair and ottoman ended up in the master bedroom. Alas, though, besides sleeping on the chair, the cats found the green furniture to be excellent scratching posts. After Rocky, Sam, Jade, and the orange boys made their marks, Lady and Quinn took up the task of shredding the chair and ottoman. The ottoman was finally defeated and tossed. Tucker and Boo joined Lady and Quinn to work over the chair. All had floofnesia about not scratching the furniture. Lady and Quinn found their way over the rainbow bridge, but then along came Papi, aka Meep. He found the green chair quite comfortable.

Now the final piece, the green chair where I shared their company, is gone. It was just too shredded for my wife’s tastes, so out it went.

Stupid chair. Makes me tear up and cry just remembering it.

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3 thoughts on “The Green Chair

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  1. Awwww … your two orange boys so reminded me of our own orange cat … aptly named Orange by our then-four-year-old granddaughter who would not listen to my suggestions of Garfield or Marmalade! He died just last year and, like your orange cats, was quite fat until he got sick. Aren’t they just such wonderful friends, though? I threaten to murder or donate mine to medical science at least 3 times a week, but the reality is that I love them … they are not pets, but are family members who just happen to have fur and walk on all fours. All our furniture is shredded, but long ago I realized there are more important things in life. 😊

    Liked by 1 person

    1. They’re wonderful friends. Love how they talk with me as things are going on. And some of their looks given to me, of thinking and wondering, crack me up. The scratched furniture is a divisive household issue. I tend to shrug it off but She Who Must Not Be Named is less inclined.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I’m more like you, I just figure I can repair or replace the furniture, but not the life of a beloved fur baby. Funny story to tell you. My friend Herb calls me every day on his lunch hour, right around 1:15. Our Oliver (Ollie for short) knows exactly when it is time for Herb to call, and sits in front of my chair waiting. As soon as the phone rings, he is in my lap, for he knows that as long as I’m talking on the phone, I have a free hand to pet him. Why on earth people refer to them as “dumb animals” is beyond me!

        Liked by 2 people

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