There’s an ugly property dispute going on within the Fairchild family. Both of the combatants make compelling arguments. As the heads of the household, Jif and I are called upon to render a decision, but we are stymied.
Stymie
Some weeks back, we took delivery of one black metal baby gate, all the better to contain Riggins with. It has served its purpose well. He stays mostly in the family room. Said family room was added on to the house at some point, and was once a garage. As such, it sits on a concrete slab, and is not particularly well insulated, and frankly, gets cold as Mars. It is difficult to keep the family room warm, especially with no fire in the fireplace. Thus, the stage is set for the appearance of The Toasty House.
LG performed the very valuable service of installing the baby gate, in the space between family room and kitchen. However, when she did so, she did not perform what would also have been a valuable service — that of properly disposing of the cardboard box from which the gate emerged. What she did do with said box, is to slide it under the breakfast bar in the family room, and lean it against the wall — where it remained for far too long. Where it remained, in fact, until Riggins disappeared one day, and we discovered that he had taken up residence in the lean-to structure that was formed by the box leaning against the wall under the breakfast bar. He seemed so fond of this newly claimed spot, that we did not immediately move to take the box away, thereby dismantling the lean-to.
In the meantime, the family room grew colder. Being a person of considerable investigative talents, I investigated. Could there be a connection between the dropping temperature in the room, and the newly claimed lean-to, where Riggins resided? Indeed, there was. There is a heating vent that comes out under the breakfast bar, where the gate box leans. The heat from that vent is captured between wall and box, and makes the lean-to one of the toastiest places in our home. Hence its name, “The Toasty House.” The answer to the question, “Where’s Riggins?” is more often than not, “in the toasty house.” Once we became aware of his love for this home within a home, we did not have the heart to recycle the box as we originally should have.
Riggins chillin' in the toasty house
Over the weekend, the temperatures dropped here. LG began to ponder the possibilities of the toasty house. One thing led to another, and she crawled in, to experience first hand its warm delights. She didn’t want to leave. Riggins was highly offended, but eventually burrowed in with her. This leads to our current stalemate.
LG tries out the toasty house
LG says that she is the builder, and indeed, the architect and designer of the toasty house, and as such, she should have clear deed to it. Riggins argues (we think) that if not for him, no one would ever have discovered that a discarded box against a wall is in fact, a toasty house. The “toasty” part, which is, in fact, what keeps the house from simply being more trash in the family room, was his discovery. They have reached a stalemate, but each has agreed to abide by the decision of the internet.
So I ask you, who has rightful claim to the toasty house?
Neither! Throw the box away, get one of those pop-up tents for kids and fill it with warm blankets. There will be room for both of them, and you will be rid of the trash. (Although if the pop-up tent comes in a box, you’re on your own)
My vote goes to Riggins. LG has sweatshirts, and sweatpants, and blankets, and a nice cozy bed to keep warm in. If LG wants the toasty house, she’s going to have to get Riggins some sweaters.
Let your girl decorate it, and keep it until no one notices it anymore.
I’m indifferent that way… if someone is enjoying something in the house, and it’s not that big of a deal… allow them.
However, a box in the kitchen could bug the crud out of other people, and if you are one of those peoples, get rid of it.
An abandoned box was claimed by a homesteader, who could foresee all the wonderful possibilities.
I say squatter’s rights prevail, the toasty house goes to Riggins until Spring thaw.
I am with Mrs. Dof. Squatters rights. Riggins is livingin a cardboard box. I love the fact that you gave a home to a homeless dog only to have him live like the homeless.
My cat, Cleopatra, says that The Toasty House is rightfully hers.
My Evil Cat, an incurable heating vent squatter, says – reluctantly, I’ll admit – that the Toasty House belongs to the Animal. (Even though he’s a dog.)
Legally speaking, LG owns the cardboard box (hereinafter “Property”), but Riggins owns the patent and trademark associated with the Toasty House (hereinafter “House”) itself, of which the Property at issue is merely one component. Thus, Riggins has the deed to the House, and LG has vested interest and a right-of-way associated with the Property, permitting her to enjoy the House at such reasonable times as may be established between the parties negotiating in good faith and under the full authority of the homeowners, to wit, Mr. & Mrs. Fairchild.
I’ll send you a bill.
Riggins, possession is 9/10th’s of the law at our house and we are constantly amazed at what our 13 year old four legged has taken possession of. I figure if they aren’t chewing things up or making messes, I can accept the taking over of some things in our home.
Just to make sure we are aware of our dog. As soon as we leave she goes and pulls the kitchen sink matt over in front of the stove. It is a game to her that we will put it back. No scolding, just a good laugh everyday and sometimes multiple times a day.
Love Shari’s comment!
If they can’t decide, then cut the Toasty House in half and each gets their part.
(but personally I think Riggins is the clear winner in this argument…)
Has the person who brought home the gate given up rights to the box? Maybe the toasty house belongs to them?
I agree with Shari, and love her answer!