Where we have a couch emergency

We had to go shopping for a couch yesterday. Our present couch is getting on in years and has been repaired more than once from sudden attacks by River.

There are basically two types of couches in my book. Those that look nice but don’t feel that comfortable and those that look like they should go into a basement and never see the light of day again but are the most comfortable thing you’ve ever sat on.

I’ve always liked the ones that look nice…until I sat on one that was hideous but I felt like I had no bones. The thought of coming home to that every day made my mouth water and  didn’t care what it cost or what it looked like, I wanted it like I wanted my next breath of air.

Yesterday, we headed out to find a new couch because the one we have at home feels like a chiropractor from hell has attacked your back and you get up with numbness in some places and pain in others. In other words, it was a couch emergency.

We ended up getting a recliner that doesn’t quite look like grandpa’s basement couch (see below).

It’s a recliner, though it has a bit of dignity in its lines. Ours is a two seater because our house is tiny and we’d like to be able to walk around the thing and it’s dark blue because we have two dogs and we’re not nuts.

Now, finding this little gem wasn’t a two minute process. My hubby is particularly choosy about his furniture and this search required checking out several stores and sitting on at least 20 couches. The entire process took so long that by the time he found this one, my stomach was starting to eat my lungs and I was cursing all British people in general and my hubby in particular.

Then we heard…it’s going to take 6 to 8 weeks to get here.

River’s Faux Pas

We have two akitas, River and Ocean. We got Ocean to help our overly-anxious bullmastiff, Lobo. When Lobo passed away, my lovely hubby decided Ocean was lonely and needed a buddy (side note: He’s a therapist. He can’t help thinking those things) and we got River. Another akita.

River grew up in a kennel without much interaction with humans because he was originally intended to be a breeding dog. We’ve been trying to fix that by socializing him, hugging and kissing him and basically spoiling him rotten.

We’ve been making steady progress. He sleeps on his cushion, has the run of the house and even knows how to take treats without snapping at your fingers like a hungry piranha.

Then, in a leap of faith, we decided to leave them alone in the house for a couple of hours and see how he’d do on his own.

We returned to this.

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And this.

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Oops.

The culprit in question was clearly River, since he was still in the middle of his hors-d’oeuvre when walked in.

My hubby might be a therapist but so was Hannibal Lecter. I ushered the dogs quickly outside and tried to think of the bright side of things.

“Look at it this way, we get to buy a new couch…” I tried.

He wasn’t convinced. Apparently, couches are really important to therapists.

(credit:spontaneous-scribbles.blogspot.com)

(credit:spontaneous-scribbles.blogspot.com)