My La-Z-Boy Turned Me into a La-Z-Girl

It was approximately four years ago that I went shopping for a new sofa. When I had purchased the couch I was now ready to replace, it was a black and white eye-catcher and just ordinarily comfortable. It looked good in my living room for a while, but the time had come for me to consider buying a new piece of furniture as my cats had exhausted their nail-grooming privileges by reducing my couch into what looked like a pile of hay. As options (and excuses for these options) swirled through my head, I tried to come up with a satisfactory solution to the problem of: cats plus claws plus upholstery equals destruction.

'I could have all six of my cats declawed,' I thought, -- but declawing older cats isn't recommended. Putting a couple of chickens and a goat in my living room for a country effect that would compliment the haystack probably wouldn't be a good idea either as the cats might kill the chickens and the goats would most likely eat my couch - err -- haystack, and my philodendrons. Finally, after considering wrought iron furniture (or something of that nature) a possibility, I drove to a strip of furniture outlets to see what I could find.

After looking high and low for a sofa I felt would be able to withstand the stress of six sets of razor sharp cat's claws, I traded in my preoccupation of this hopeless idea with one more pleasing to my senses when a lovely forest green sofa with sky blue and rust colored threads subtly woven throughout its fabric lured me to its side. When I asked the salesman how much this couch was selling for, his answer was disappointing as my intention was to spend no more than seven-hundred dollars.

Once I told the salesman that I liked the sofa, but was on a budget and the price was a little too high for me, he proceeded to tell me why La-Z-Boy was worth the money. He explained that La-Z-Boy was one of the best brand names in furniture, and he stated that the sofa was durable, extremely comfortable, and came with a warranty. He then offered me a seat on an end section of the sofa that reclined with a firm upward pull of a finished wood handle that was mounted onto the side of the couch. One flip of that handle sent me on my way to the point of no return. A feeling of total and complete comfort enveloped me as I lay on this dream weaver. To make this feature twice as nice, the opposite end section of the couch was designed to recline as well. Approximately eighty-five inches in width, this sofa, with its thick-cushioned headrest and arms, was more comfortable than I ever expected. I was sold and eagerly handed over a check in the amount of nine-hundred dollars for one perfectly irresistible La-Z-Boy.

Over the years, I have protected my La-Z-Boy from the claws-of-death by keeping it covered with a thick sheet of plastic when not in use. It still looks just as beautiful as it did the first day it arrived at my house, and it always reclines without any difficulty. To this day, the only problem my La-Z-Boy gives me is that it won't allow me to stay awake for more than ten minutes after I recline on it - but this is a problem I wouldn't want to be without.