Cat Scratch Fever

Recently, I found a red velvet boudoir chair. The most charming tuffet, heart-shaped back. It seats one, right next to the door, under the arts & crafts style stained glass window I picked up at the same sale. Its perfect. PERFECT.

But you know...I've said it before and I'll say it again. WE CAN'T HAVE ANYTHING NICE!!!*

My brother tells me my mom would say that when we were kids. I picked it up along the way and its sort of a sad, pathetic commentary on my life with a houseful of kids, dog and cat.

I was away for a few days and upon my return, what do I see? That DARN CAT ripped the sides of my perfect red velvet tuffett with the heart-shaped back to SHREADS.

Damned cat! We can't have anything nice! I could feel my heart breaking. The tuffet. Its irreplaceable.

I had visions of Genevieve's nervous prom date sweating it out on that chair by the door, corsage in hand, knees knocking while Bernie cracks his signature corny jokes.
Or maybe Bernie would take the "stern father" approach.

Gigi glide down the staircase like a princess as we head over to the dining room for photos, then out to the front lawn under the goat willow, crab apple or dogwood tree (depending on the week in May)for more.

Oh the tuffet! My heart is smashed to a million pieces; my potential memories drip down the drain. Damned you CAT! May your wretched claws fall out.

(*this is why I never ever pay retail)

(now, please, no, I do not hate my cat - do not accuse me of any sort of animal cruelty. My cat is the spitting image of Garfield. How he mustered up enough emotion to scratch at my beloved chair defies all reason.)