Hey, it’s Vlad. You may recall sometime ago we had a chat about when I became aware of Zuri, the black backed jackal, being allowed to sit in the Crate and Barrel Ankara chair. This is a fairly fancy chair, so needless to say, I was a bit miffed that I don’t have access to such a grand chair. After all, I am everyone’s favorite ambassador and the linchpin to this operation, so It seems like common sense that no one would occupy a chair more splendid than mine. I mean, I’m not asking for a throne, per se, as appropriate as that might be. Anyway, I made sure management was made aware of my displeasure and sat back…not on a chair mind you, and waited for this injustice to be remedied.

Yesterday I got word that my chair had indeed arrived. I imagined it would be something quite special. Maybe a pleather covered BarcaLounger with the shiatsu massage feature, dual cup holders and a hidden compartment to store my snacks. Perhaps it would even have the heated cushions so I could warm my buns on those cold winter nights.

So earlier I hear a staff member come into our habitat to deliver my chair. I come out of my inside dwelling expecting to see a chair commensurate with my value to the center. As I am sure you can imagine I was not pleased with what I saw. The word disappointed somehow does not express the shear disgust I felt upon viewing this abomination. I mean it’s a good thing I have flea treatment on because it looks like this chair was purchased for 99 cents at the local flea market.

After taking a few minutes to regain my composure and to remember I am resilient if nothing else, I determined I was not going to predicate my self worth on the grandiosity of a chair. So I took a mighty leap and laid down in my chair… and you know what, it was darn comfy. Sure there is no shiatsu massage and nothing to warm my buns but that’s what my fur is for. A throne is not made by the value of the furniture but rather the value of the one that occupies it.

When life gives you lemons make lemonade.

Vlad out.