Taking the Empty Chair

The evening is winding down. Cindie is sitting to my left in her chair, tapping away at the laptop, engaged in the calming effects of a game of solitaire. The dogs and I glance over at her upon hearing the gentle "slap-click" sound of the laptop closing, signaling the end of the day for her.

She says her "good nights," takes her leave and retires, leaving the two dogs and I, the night owls that we are, to our peaceful reverie. It is not long before Miss Money Penny hops up to take the space left vacant by Cindie in the now empty chair.

Penny sits for a moment in the chair, surveying the room around her. Our eyes meet as she glances over at me, but only for a brief instant. Then seemingly satisfied, she lies down and curls up into the soft deep recesses of the plush upholstered recliner, no doubt still warm from Cindie's recent sojourn there. I hear a great big deep satisfied dog sigh emanate from the chair my darling wife so recently occupied.

Bo lies on the floor at my feet. He could care less. Even if he wanted to try out one of the chairs, it wouldn't work. Bo is too big for a chair; he doesn't fit.

So why does Penny sit in Cindie's chair? Is it because it is a comfortable place to sit? Or does she miss Cindie, and somehow feel closer to Cindie sitting in her chair? Or is it one of those dogs-dominate-over-people things?

I don't know, but it seems kind of cute. She is keeping me company, you know, acting like a sort of surrogate Cindie, but in a nice way, not in a Cindie-is-a-dog kind of a way, if you know what I mean.

Penny sits in Cindie's chair when Cindie is not around, so I am never really alone as long as the dogs are around. I wonder if Penny sits in my chair for Cindie when I am not around. Hmmm, I wonder.