Pet Perq in my Office

It was only a matter of time before I blogged about my cats. Anyone who knows me for more than five minutes know that I own, or rather am owned by, three little cherubs. Most of my adult life I’ve lived with cats, continuously astounded by their magnificence, their intelligence, and their indifference. My husband believes I have some kind of persecution complex to put up with their behavior sometimes, but I don’t care. I’m here to serve.

I will say each day I have a Feng Shui issue with one of my little felines. Her name is Mudra and she is the most “water-y” of the three—-she doesn’t mingle with the other two, she prefers to eat by herself, and she’s not much for sitting on the back deck even on sunny days. She’s an indoor kitty all the way.

One of the places she takes over is my office chair. She curls up on the chair first thing in the morning, and at night she’ll often still be there. Of course, it presents a dilemma for me since I need to work at my desk. What dilemma? you may ask, echoing my husband’s own question. You move her off the chair—it’s that easy, he’ll tell me. This next part will fully disclose a flaw in my own character, but real, true cat-owners will totally understand: you don’t disturb a kitty. Oh no. The cat stays and I adjust.
In Feng Shui, you must have a comfortable, high-backed chair at your desk. One that supports you as you make decisions. One that rolls back and forth easily, has arms, and can be raised and lowered as needed. I hear myself say it countless times to clients and students. I say it adamantly even, with great emphasis, stressing the importance of sitting straight and feeling in control. The caveat, for those of you who still are not understanding the gist of my blog, is that this Feng Shui directive does not apply if you have cats. Here’s the new directive: if a cat is sitting in your office chair, you share the space with the cat, disturbing them as little as possible. Duh.

As I write this very blog, I am comfortably and easily perched on the front two inches of my chair, with my lovely cat Mudra sprawled behind.

She has agreed to move her large bushy tail to give me this space for which I’m grateful. Lest I forget she has so generously shared her space, she will from time to time push her little front paws into my back. Some people would think she was trying to shove me off the chair, but I know she’s offering me the support and confidence I need in life. When stalled for an idea, or struggling to know where to begin, I reach behind me and pet whatever part of her my hand finds. As though that isn’t reward enough, she will emit a soft purr to let me know she’s there and recognizes my efforts. What better Feng Shui can I have? Those high-backed chairs, those ergonomic monstrosities—-they’re only for people who don’t have the privilege of sharing their space with the gift of a cat.