The Cushion Conspiracy

It all started with a suspicious silence.

As any seasoned pet owner knows, when your house is too quiet and you own a dog and a cat, something has gone horribly, hilariously wrong. I peeked into the living room to find my golden retriever, Max, sitting guiltily in front of the couch. His tail was wagging like crazy — a sure sign of either excitement or a cover-up.

On the couch was our cat, Pickles, perched like royalty, glaring at Max as if he had committed a crime against the entire feline kingdom. Which, in a way, he had.

The cushions were gone.

Completely gone.

Well, not gone gone — more like... redistributed.

One was in the kitchen. One was wedged under the dining table. One was partially eaten (Max looked especially proud of that one). And the fourth? It was in the backyard, halfway up the maple tree. To this day, no one knows how it got there.

Pickles had apparently claimed the couch as her throne for weeks, and Max, tired of always sitting on the floor like some kind of commoner, decided it was time for a mutiny. Except, instead of reclaiming the couch like a normal dog, he tried to “deconstruct the monarchy,” one cushion at a time.

The best part? He had tried to rebuild a makeshift couch fort using the cushions. Very badly. But the intent was there.

I walked in just as Pickles began her revenge — slowly pushing a decorative vase toward the edge of the side table with one smug paw.

It shattered.

Max barked. Pickles meowed. I sighed.

Later that day, I found a mysterious Amazon order had been placed on my phone: “Pet Couch – Throne Style – Extra Plush.”

They’re in this together. I just know it.