Here’s Ophelia firmly holding on to her spot on the couch.

She got here first and notice how she’s expanded to take up the whole space. Not hard to do when you’re a queen-sized feline. Notice how there’s no way I can possibly squeeze in.

Cats control their world even when they’re asleep…or pretending. Ophelia’s got one eye squinting out at us.

My mom doesn’t really care who’s on the couch as long as somebody joins her. She says, “I pay all this money for crunchies. The least I can expect is some company while I work.”

And she’s happy to see Ophelia emerge from her hiding places and join the family. She will never forget how Ophelia arrived as a timid stray cat who promptly stopped eating and got sick with liver disease.

Ophelia’s left her past behind. Better than some humans, my mom says. She’s totally at home, as you can see. And I don’t think she belongs in the “finicky eater” department anymore. My mom just put out an SOS call to the vet, asking how much to feed Ophelia every day. I suggested we send Ophelia out to catch some mice in the park but nobody paid any attention.

Strange to think that our ditzy Creampuff is the only family member who knows her place.

Creampuff recognizes a cat cushion when she sees one. My mom bought this cushion years ago. She can’t even remember when she got it but she thinks it’s from one of those “cats only” stores. Might have been the one in Tennessee when she was on a business trip. She really liked that store in Green Hllls mall and she went there when she attended conferences in Nashville.

Now of course it’s faded and worn but Creampuff still likes it. Thank goodness! One less contender for my favorite spot on the crowded couch.

Good grief…I was napping away on my favorite spot on my mom’s couch. All of a sudden my mom was running around, grabbing her trusty camera and snapping one photo after another.

“Oh no…that shows too much of the rug,” she said. “And that’s probably blurred. Just one more…hold it!”

What was all the fuss about?

“Gracie and Ophelia, you’re friends!” my mom exclaimed happily as she dashed around capturing our images over and over again.

Sigh. As usual, my mom overreacts. And she doesn’t get dog language.

See, here’s what really happened. I was on the couch, enjoying my peaceful sleep, on my couch cushion. It’s actually one of my mom’s very old pillows that finally gave up. So mom pulled off the pillowcase and gave it to me to protect her couch. It’s my cushion. Before I entered this household, the cats had their own cushion, decorated with paw prints, on top of the couch. We’re very territorial around here.

Well, Ophelia decided she likes my pillow cushion. Ophelia has not caught on to the hierarchy of this household. She arrived in July of 2008. I arrived in January of 2006. I have seniority. This cushion was there for me.

So while I was sleeping, Ophelia crept up and sat near me. She’s not snuggling. See how she’s sitting up straight? She’s sending a message.

Who would’ve thought life would turn out this way? Ophelia was officially declared “skittish” by the cat shrink my mom hired to help her get adjusted. (For the record, my mom got her money back…as well she should.) There was talk of having her “re-homed,” a fancy term for giving up on the old gal.

Well, Ophelia doesn’t lack in self-esteem. My mom wrote an ebook called Bragging101, to help humans who need to get comfortable about selling themselves. Ophelia could have been her co-author.

My mom just came across this article: 17 Things Worth Knowing About Cats.

The article said a cat can run up to 30 miles per hour. That’s an ordinary house cat, they said.

Whoever wrote that article has not met our Ophelia. However, I admit Ophelia can move pretty fast when Creampuff is chasing her.

ONE thing worth knowing about dogs. We are superior to cats. And we love to sleep.

Two things? I am a dog. Who says I can count?

This morning my mom was awakened when I bumped into her bed. I was trying to jump up and return to my assigned cushion without waking her. After all, I got down, didn’t I?

So my mom gets up, suspicious from the get-go.

“Gracie, you’re off the bed. The cat food dishes are empty. Totally clean! The cats never finish every crumb of their food. So Gracie, I conclude that you were eating cat food! Now I can’t give you breakfast. You’ll get sick from overeating.”

Come on, Mom. You’re a softie when it comes to human justice. You don’t believe in convicting criminals based on circumstantial evidence. So why me?

Mom’s always saying the justice system picks one suspect and ignores other possibles. Well, let’s consider Ophelia as the Prime Suspect. Ophelia’s been getting MUCH larger. She eats fast and furiously. She looks like a plate-cleaner to me. And who knows? Maybe I just thought you were ready to wake up and leapt off the bed two seconds before you woke up.

“Forget it, Gracie,” Mom said. “The only consequence to you is a very slight cutback on your rations. Everybody’s been commenting that you look bigger, too.”

Busted…or falsely accused. What do YOU readers think?

Well, my birthday was a non-event. My mom decided I need a rest day in between my most active exercise days. So Wednesday we went for a walk, only to find the dog park was closed. Not to worry: we walked most of the way home, which was about a mile. Thursday was my rest day. Then Friday I was off to Magnuson again with my Aunt Sara.

When Aunt Sara came to get me, she got a look at our portly housemate, Ophelia. “That cat has just about tripled in size!” she exclaimed. “She is huge! Not good for her joints.”

“Guess I’d better put her on a diet,” my mom said, sheepishly.

I was thrilled. I won’t be the only deprived creature in this household.

But later my mom picked up Ophelia. “Not that heavy,” she said. “Maybe your fur has just gotten fluffier with all the healthy food?”

Yeah, right. Come on, Mom. You eat carefully. You measure my rations. Creampuff has a metabolism that keeps her skinny. Let’s get Ophelia into the loop.

So what do YOU think? Please add some comments below. My mom says I need more interaction on this blog.

It doesn’t take much to make my mom’s day. Yesterday she took me out for a walk, then came home to this cozy domestic scene.

“Just a year ago, I was ready to hire a cat shrink,” she said. “And now…a picture of domestic bliss.”

As a dog, I understand the dynamics of my housemates. Creampuff actually initiated this little get-together. She waited till Ophelia was settled on her favorite cat cushion, then jumped up to join her. Ophelia wasn’t about to give up her territory, not to mention her comfortable cushion.

The cats are almost exactly the same age, if we can believe what their animal shelters told my mom. They’re about ten years old. That’s senior citizenship in human terms.

When my mom’s friend Bob came to visit, he remembered Creampuff. He had visited Cathy in New Mexico, when her cats were Creampuff and Tiger.

Bob has always been very nice to Cathy’s cats. When she moved to New Mexico from Florida, he kept them for about six weeks till she got settled. Cathy was sure she’d never see the cats again but no such luck. Bob put them on a plane for Tucson and Cathy met them at the airport. They even managed to change planes in Dallas without getting lost.

Bob told Cathy, “You need to give Creampuff more attention.”

“No problem,” Cathy said. “I’ll send her to you. I bet there’s room in your luggage when you fly back tonight!”

Way to go, Mom! You’re finally catching on. This household would be greatly improved with one less cat.

My mom says Ophelia has more personality than any cat she’s ever had. That’s not saying much since most cats are kind of wimpy. She was talking about Ophelia on the phone to her friend Bill (so what else is new).

Today mom heard crunching coming from the kitchen. “Gracie, stop eating!” she yelled.

Then she remembered I was in the Dog Lounge.

“Oops…now, which cat could that be? It’s Ophelia!” Sure enough, Ophelia was diving into a plate of crunchies. When she saw my mom, she looked up with that guilty “Caught in the act!” expression and dashed away.

“If Cathy thinks I’ll eat those crunchies,” Ophelia seems to be saying, “then I’ll never get the canned food and the other crunchies I like better.”

Dogs are smart. We never look guilty. When I get caught, I give my mom the “What’s the problem? I’m not doing anything!” look.

Too late, Ophelia. Mom’s on to you.

The mom is psyched. She came home very late last night, following what should have been a brief excursion to a Seattle Storm game against LA.

“Los Angeles games are usually boring,” she said when she finally got home and took me out for a long overdue walk. “This one was exciting. Triple overtime! I’ve never even seen ONE overtime in basketball.”

My mom considered writing a post for one of her blogs about lessons learned from the game. Persistence? Advantage of the home court?

“This isn’t a game you win on the road,” someone said during the post-game interviews. “You’ve got all the fans screaming for you.”

Many people get through tough times when they’ve got their own private network of screaming fans, Mom said.

Well, I have a HUGE network of fans all over Seattle. Strangers come up to my mom on the street, saying, “Is this Gracie? I know her from the Dog Lounge.” Or, “We’ve met at the dog park. Hi, Gracie!”

Of course, Ophelia offers another version of screaming fan. She shrieked at Creampuff, who’s the most harmless, ditziest cat I’ve ever met. Ophelia seems to think Creampuff has the ferocity and firepower of a US Marine, when in fact Creampuff has the toughness and consistency of a marshmallow.

Back to my nap. Mom wishes she could do the same, but she’s got a call to prepare for.