Oh No, My Husband and Cat Are Fighting Over The Chair AGAIN

"GREEZOO!"  My husband says with mounting exasperation. "What are you doing cat? Why are you in my chair? Oh, I know. He's trying to dominate me. He wants to show he's the boss." 

I quietly added a third chair to the dining table. But Mr. Greezooks simply keeps divebombing for whichever chair my hubby sits in. If he sits in the white wooden chair, Greezooks makes a beeline for that one. If my man favours the unpainted wood chair, the cat beats him to that one. I am a reluctant bystander of these chair wars.

No matter how much I pet and cajole the cat, he seems to frown and try to pre-empt husband from sitting down. Yet anytime my husband gets up to leave the kitchen cat follows him right away like a happy loyal puppy. Then cat accelerates at top speed, and pounce! Cat jumps right into hubby's office chair.

"Ugh! He's following me!"
"Hun, Greezoo LOVES you.." I drawl in a syrupy save-my-marriage voice.
"But I don't feel the love. I feel attacked. I know why. The cat is a boy cat. He feels annoyed that there is a new man in your life. "
"Oh, Hun, just give it time. Mr. Greezoo will adjust."
"And furthermore, what is Greezoo doing on the table again? We are about to eat! Scat cat!"
"But I haven't served the food yet. And it's not like the cat helps himself to my food, ugh, our food, I should now say. Unless we pour cow milk for cereal. But you use almond milk and I use soy. Trust me, if he doesn't smell cow milk, he's not interested...
"Ah, let him have some cow milk in his little dishes on the ground."
"NO! Greezoo will get diarhea..."

"Nikki, I'm at the store now, and I was just wondering, which cat food do you want me to pick up? They have an indoor type...I couldn't help thinking we don't take Greezoo out for enough walks and he's looking kinda fat..."
"Are you calling my cat fat? Finally, I've been trying to tell you for months, Please quit giving him snacks...The vet says it's urgent that he lose 2 pounds."
"Ha ha, I can't stop laughing. You are making such a big deal over 2 pounds!?!"
"Hun, for a cat 2 pounds is human 25 pounds. He's a Maine Coon. It's gonna affect his joints and increase his chances of arthritits later on. He's almost 7. He's middle-aged now. We have to be careful. He can barely climb trees now."
"Yeah...I was gonna tell you Nikki, Greezoo can barely climb the tree. And remember that time Greezoo tried to jump up from the bathtub onto the bathroom window ledge and he slipped and fell into the hot bubblebath and got furious? Oh boy!!! We don't want that to happen again. No more snacks for Mr. Cat!"

Then we sit down to play cards for the first time ever. We are going heavy at it with Go Fish! with two decks of cards, my collector's edition of Queen the rock band cards and a completely pink deck of cards. I am winning until I sense that playing with 2 decks is tiring for hubby. We have way too many cards in our hands and neither of us can amass 8 of anything. I am just about to call it quits to preserve my marriage when out of nowhere Mr. Luxurious Greezoo of overample proportions scurries up onto the table next to the fridge, then pounces up to the newly-cleaned off and bare fridge top...Scrunch-plup-konk-crash, as soon as his claws graze the fridge top his still-lagging behind body falls perilously into my husband's special black ceramic President's Choice mug. Next our new ceramic castle statue hurtles to the ground, my teacup spills all over both rare decks of cards, and there's shards everywhere. Thankfully the castle is almost completely intact!
It must be made from some type of mutating ceramic + plastic deal.

I stay completely calm. Rather I am numb. How has my cat gotten so quickly out of shape?
And just what shall I do to keep both my marriage and cat in shape? Stay tuned.
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Note: My husband is actually a cat lover and happy cat Daddy. And we are very happy together.      
Catch Santhosh Christudas' sardonic "catty humour" on Trollcatcomics.com

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