04/07/2026
THE DAY I BECAME A FOREST CHAIR FOR A MAINE C**N
(A true story, unfortunately for my sinuses)
So there I was, minding my own business, sitting on a big warm rock, taking in the gorgeous trees, the smell of grass and soil — just existing, bothering no one.
And then out of the corner of my eye, I see this…creature.
Not a cat. Not not a cat. Just this huge moon faced being with ear tufts like a lynx and paws the size of my hand, ambling toward me like it pays property taxes.
Before I can even process what species it is, this thing plops into my lap.
Not jumps. Not settles. Plops. Like a furry boulder with opinions.
And then it starts purring.
Not a cute little kitty purr. No. This was a diesel truck idling in my lap, vibrating my bones, my soul, and unfortunately, my allergies.
My nose is tickling, my sinuses are staging a coup, but do I move? Of course not.
I don’t want to disturb the forest deity who has chosen me as his personal recliner.
So I sit there, frozen, thinking:
“What IS this creature? Why is it so big? Is this legal?”
Meanwhile the cat is thinking:
“Warm human. Good chair.”
Eventually, after blessing me with ten minutes of diesel powered affection, it stands up, stretches like a lion greeting the dawn, looks back at me — like it’s acknowledging my service — and then ambles into the forest.
Just disappears. Like a mythological being clocking out for the day.
Later, someone tells me, “Oh, that’s one of your animal guides.”
And I said:
“If a Giant from Jack and the Beanstalk sat in my lap, would that be my guide too? Because that’s about the size we’re talking here.”
They absolutely lost it. I lost it. And I said:
“Honestly, I was honored to be a human chair for a bit.”