My friend A, who lives in the city, recently got me a chair.
Little did I know that she actually got Mr Bell a chair:
And make no mistake about this: it is Mr Bell’s chair. I tried to sit in it the other day and he bit me. It’s a pity, really, because it looks like a really nice chair. Soft, comfortable, the perfect size for curling up and reading on. It’s so big that you might even be able to take a nap. Right now it’s positioned so that it gets the morning sun on Franklin Street, and one could in theory people watch in maximum comfort from this chair.
Well, someone’s people watching in comfort, that’s for sure.
Sometimes he shares with others. He and Mr Shadow are rising to the defence here to keep Loki off the chair. I think there’s been some sort of rearrangement of the feline status pyramid while I was gone, and poor Loki is at the bottom.