lord of the ironing board

Henry has changed our furniture arrangements. There is his food bowl and water bowl next to the kitchen counter.  There is his cat loo in the guest toilet.  There is his scratch post in our living room and I still carry him there if he starts sharpening his claws on the dining room chairs.  There is his transport box in a corner since he likes to snuggle down in there occasionally.  And there is the ironing board.

Henry has made the ironing board his own. I have to chase him off when I actually need to do some ironing, and afterwards I don’t put it away anymore, I just place a table runner over it when I’m done and that’s where he sits and rests and sleeps throughout the day.

How much he considers the ironing board his own became clear today.  I had put it outside on the balcony while I was mopping the floor and there he was: the ironing lord.




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