Berfert, our son Michael's cat, and I have been having a battle all day long about who owns "my" spot on the living room sofa. I got home from a doctors appointment to find that Berfert was laying in what is usually regarded as "my" spot on the sofa. He was laying comfortably with his back to the arm of the thing and his tail facing into the room. I said "Hey Berfert, what are you doing in my seat?" He looked at me as if to say, "What's it to ya, babe, and is that food you got in your hand?" I picked him up and moved him out of my seat then shared my lunch with all three of the cats. They love bacon cheese burgers.

After Rob went back to work, I got a phone call. I came back from answering it and Berfert was in my seat again. I gently moved him to the other end of the sofa and he lay there glaring at me. I got up to go to the bathroom and Berfert was in my seat again. I moved him again. Another phone call, another cat shift. Another phone call, another cat shift. Each time I had to move him he would glare at me then pout for a while. He isn't really mad at me as he grins as I'm telling him he has to go, and he hasn't strayed far from me all day.

My computer is in my bedroom and Berfert is currently laying on my side of the bed watching me write about him and his behavior today. I usually lay down for a while about this time of day and I suspect that's what Berfert is waiting for. I think I'm some part of a weird kitty psych experiment. What do you think?

Copyright © Pam Shirk
August 4, 1999