Jingle Belle on the other chair...but not alone.
She was sharing the chair with Sam.
Meaning: she was on the chair with Sam
and their bodies were touching.
And nobody was getting torn to shreds.
Jingle Belle, she was perfectly happy with the all-girl arrangement she and I had before Harry showed up. And then Sam just kind of sealed her doom. She never got over that only-cat attitude, though. She doesn't share her space. Ever. Not even with me. If she decides to sit on my lap or come over for a scratch and a snuggle, I stop whatever I'm doing and enjoy it. Because it won't happen again for a while.
I don't know what brought on this unusual display of feline tolerance. I just crouched down behind my laptop and kept typing lest the incident end...badly. But it didn't. After about half an hour, Belle stretched and yawned and looked at Sam like, "Whaaat?" Sam looked a little panicked. I'm sure I did, too. But Belle just jumped off the chair to go sleep somewhere else.
I'm calling The National Geographic Channel now.