Whose chair is it anyway?

We writers tend to carry on despite many uphill struggles, despite life throwing catastrophic events at us, and despite life always getting in the way of our muses. So, it was perhaps a relatively minor debacle this morning when my cat cat beat me to my chair and looked at me with a rather territorial glance. When I DID try and sit down, he just budged up looking ever so slightly squashed. Obviously he decided the chair much more appealing today, thank you very much. So he lorded it on my precious writing chair, while I spent my time sitting next to the floor on the bean bag. And this is the way we stayed for much of the morning. 

Oh, and in case you're wondering, the answer to the initial question is: It's obviously the cat's chair.