I know I'm still recovering from all that anesthesia to both place the pacemaker and then surgery to repair the lung puncture. I'm still sleeping a lot! I've caught myself dozing off and waking up an hour later. I was informed at the Heart Failure Clinic (I love typing that ominous name) that I must stay on top of the edema and leg elevation is the best and easiest method to address that.
Unfortunately, I can do nothing productive with elevated legs except sleep, so sleep it is. Once I awoke in my recliner (with legs elevated) and saw Kitty stretched out on the sofa, an arm's length away, staring at me. So Kitty does use the furniture, and I've found her out.
I decided to use her paws down favorite liver treat to entice her to come up on the sofa...with me. We are into serious shoulder skritches, and it's time to up the ante. I can only approach her while she is eating treats, and she asks for vigorous shoulder rubs. First one, then the other, then both together. When she's had enough, I get a swat from extended claws. She's never hurt me, but her intent is obvious. Enough. I wish I understood her background.
So the liver treats are kept in the corner of the sofa, and I've tried tempting her to jump up and share the sofa with me and enjoy some liver treats. So far, no luck. She puts her front paws on the sofa, but she cannot reach the treats and she cannot pull the trigger and jump up. One of these days it will happen. Then maybe we can watch the TV together.
I have a small TV, about 15" on the diagonal. It's also about thirty years old. I use it for Netflix and the like, though gentlemen callers to the apartment would like to show me how to use it to watch regular TV. Due to the age of the set, this involves manipulations I do not care to repeat properly to switch back to Netflix, etal.
The TV sits on a small chest, on a quilted mat one of our temporary sewers made, years and years ago. The other morning I got up, and was astounded I had slept through the crash of the TV hitting the floor! There it was, flat on its face, on the floor. The remotes were scattered about. Kitty appeared at the sound of the treat can rattle. At least she was not flat as the Roadrunner, and under the TV. I lifted it back onto the chest and plugged in the power cord and the Roku cord. The red light fired obediently up. I have not yet tried to turn it on.