Abbi has never been materialistic, but if there’s one thing she’s truly loved, it’s her chair.

It wasn’t just any chair it was her spot. The perfect place for afternoon naps, lazy day lounging, and keeping a close eye on Dad while pretending not to beg for food. It had the perfect level of cushion, just the right amount of her smell, and, most importantly, it was always there.

But now… things are changing. The move is happening. And that means saying goodbye. At first, Abbi didn’t seem to notice. She hopped up like she always did, did her usual three spins before settling in, and let out a happy sigh. But then, she started to notice things disappearing. Boxes piling up. The familiar feeling of something different in the air.

And then came the moment she wasn’t prepared for.

The chair moved. Not just slightly completely. One minute it was there, and the next, it was being carried out the door. Abbi’s ears perked. She sat up. Wait… what? She watched as her beloved chair left her sight, her head tilting in deep confusion. Surely, this was a mistake. Surely, it’s just going outside for some fresh air, right? She trotted over to the empty space where it once sat, sniffing the ground as if that would somehow bring it back. Then she turned to Dad, eyes full of concern. What do you mean it’s not coming with us? Where am I supposed to sit? Where am I supposed to nap?

And in that moment, the reality set in.

The chair was gone.

Abbi let out a dramatic sigh and flopped down onto the floor, her version of a proper mourning period. The betrayal was real. The heartbreak? Unmatched. But, in true Abbi fashion, it didn’t take long for her to adjust. A few minutes later, she stretched out, gave a little shake, and strolled over to find new spot maybe not as perfect as the chair, but good enough for now. Besides, she has a feeling Dad will be getting her something even better at the new place. And if not? Well… she’ll make sure he does.