The Bed

When JM first brought Joey to my home last week, she purchased a few necessary essentials, such as a litter box, cat food, and kitty litter. She also acquired a luxury item, that being a soft, plush, beige cat bed for Joey to curl up into on those nights when we all gathered around the television set to watch the newest episode of MTV's "Jersey Shore."

Upon Joey's arrival, JM warned me that never before had he taken to using a kitty crib in past attempts, and that the outlook for its use in this reincarnation was not too bright.

On Joey's first night at my domicile, we placed the bed on the floor in the living room by the secondary black leather couch, perpendicular to the couch on which we jointly sat.

Like a bikini-clad Gisele Bundchin strolling down the streets of San Francisco's Castro district, its existence was hardly acknowledged.

Over the next few days we moved the bed throughout various locations in the quarters, including Joey's previously blogged-about "sweet spots."

Instead of accepting the soft lounging utensil as a warm-hearted gift from a loving mother, Joey instead began to shun his formerly favorite napping locales.

At one point, JM even tried rubbing the bed all over her body, so that it possessed a familiar scent to Joey.

Still nothing.

I offered that perhaps JM should have taken a shower first.

Over the next few days the bed idly sat in a corner of my office, reveling in its loneliness. This was when I decided that enough was enough. I placed the bed in Joey's latest sweet spot on the aforeblogged (and yes I just made that word up) papasan chair. At first, Joey peered his big brown head up to the black cushion of the chair and saw the foreboding bed in his spot. He then proceeded to sniff at it and ultimately sauntered away, only to curl up by a nearby sliding door window.

Later that day, Joey returned to inspect the scene once more. Upon finding the bed to continue to occupy his preferred site, he then sat up in front of the chair and meowed incessantly, while simultaneously turning his head backwards to look at me as I worked at my desk. It was almost as if I could telepathically hear him say, "What the frack, dude?"

For the rest of the day, I would oblige this request, as I grew weary of listening to his annoying meows while trying to work. We started to play a game of cat-and-mouse, making me the "Mickey" of this situation.

I place bed on papasan chair. Joey cries until I remove it. Joey naps. Joey wakes up and leaves the office. I put the bed back on the papasan chair.

Rinse and repeat.

This continued for two days, until I had a scary revelation. I realized that I was giving in way too easily to Joey's demands. I started having flash-forwards to having a child one day and always giving in to its crying, thereby spoiling it and turning it into "Snooki 2.o" by the year 2030.

So I decided to put my foot down and ignore Joey's subsequent pleas for bed relocation. For the next 24 hours, he constantly whined whenever he wanted to climb onto the papasan chair. However, I changed my strategic tactic and instead stood my ground while ignoring the screeching audible appeals.

The next day, while working at my desk, I happened to catch Joey climb onto the papasan chair out of the corner of my eye. He then sniffed the fabric of the bed and kneaded it with his paws. As I watched curiously, I recalled JM once informing me that before Joey ever decided to lay on a malleable item, be it a human lap or a couch cushion, he would knead its surface to check if it was level. To this day I still think he's checking to see if it can handle his substantial body weight and not crush under his two tons of fur. But whatever. To-ma-to, to-mah-to.

Joey's investigation continued for approximately two minutes. Then, as if a strong gust of wind had just blown through the room, Joey suddenly plopped down on the bed and commenced to nap.

I then excitedly emailed JM at work with the the good news. Joey finally accepted the bed as a creature comfort, instead of treating it like an arch rival. Afterwards, I sat back and beamed from ear to ear as I watched Joey sleep in the bed. "Victory!" I thought in my head, doing my best Johnny Drama impersonation.

Then I quickly and suddenly rolled my chair back from the desk as I stared at a peaceful Joey. In my head I quickly thought, "Whoa. This is the highlight of my day. What is happening to me?"

And from the sound of my moving chair, Joey poked his head up and stared at me with his green beady little eyes, as if to say, "Yeah, you may have won the battle. But I'll be winning the war."