Warning: Large Lap Dog Ahead

River is allowed on two piece of furniture: the beanbag chair and the old couch.  Both pieces reside in the “man cave,” which has sort of become my second office since River refuses to hang out in the real office.  (Plus the couch is more comfortable than my desk chair.)

Whenever we’re in that room, River will come bounding in and take a flying leap into the beanbag chair.  The cat used to sit there, too – after one of those flying leaps, she found a safer spot.

We’ve slowly gotten River to start sitting with us on the couch.  She usually only stays for a couple of minutes, since she’s not really comfortable with long-term physical contact with us, but over the last week or so, she’s gotten more comfortable sitting with us.  This usually manifests as her rolling around excitedly while trying to lick us.

The couch still isn’t her first choice – sprawling out on the beanbag chair is way more preferable – but when Kevin invites her, River will jump right up to sit with us.  Sometimes he’ll pat his chest or legs to try to get her into his lap.  Sometimes this works, but usually it ends with her just putting her paws up on his legs, licking him, and generally being excited but confused for a bit before finally deciding to just jump into the beanbag.

Not so on Monday night.

River looked at Kevin, looked at me, and leaped completely over Kevin directly into my lap.  Most of her paws managed to miss me, but one dug into my thigh pretty good.  She froze, not sure if she’d done the right thing or not, but then I burst into hysterical laughter and she decided she had and proceeded to writhe around and lick my face a lot.

The look of pure horror on Kevin’s face will stay with me for a while, in a hilarious and adorable “look how much this guy loves me” way.  I think he was anticipating a trip to the ER to deal with the internal injuries and fractured femurs that should have resulted from a seventy-pound carnivore launching itself at me.

River really likes hanging out with us on the couch now, though, so that’s good?  My bruised thigh isn’t so sure.


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