A question for you about place mats. They are there to mark a place, correct? Sometimes that place is for eating. But when it isn’t, what’s wrong with using it for other things? Say, sleeping? Or licking oneself?

Horgan and I had a disagreement at dinner last night. He had invited Colleen, formerly a double-agent Canadian Russian spy, to join us. She lives on a farm. She knows cats.

But suddenly, my place at the table (rather, on the table), was under negotiation. Even though Horgan is a Certified Covert Animal Handler, pulling out the stun gun was still sneaky and unfair.

So fine, I moved off, and I took my green cotton place mat with me. It was keeping my butt warm.

Cats and place mats–an inalienable right. Who’s with me?