That Darned Cat

After we had to let Finnegan go (and I swear I'll stop talking about this soon. Every time I start a new blog post, it seems to come out again. This is cheaper than therapy.), I must have been suffering from some residual guilt or something, because I got into this mode where I was obsessed with making life more luxurious for my remaining two pets. So, off to the sewing machine I went and made new beds for them. Then I went a step further and decided that the cat needed me to convert an old IKEA table into an activity station for him, with his new bed underneath. Here is what that looked like:

Note that there is no sign of the cat anywhere in this picture. That is the normal state of his activity station/bed.

Instead, this is where the cat can generally be found at any given time of the day or night:

On someone else's bed.

Under a completely different table, surrounded by clutter.

On the floor, in Finnegan's old spot.

In the laundry basket.

So I think it's safe to say the cat station can be converted back to an IKEA table. And someone really needs to remind me of this the next time I decide the animals don't have it quite cushy enough.

And while we're on the subject, what is going on with this situation?

Ingrates.