She and I fight a daily battle over this chair. Every time I get out of it she gets in it. She will be sitting on my desk while I'm working at the computer, right by my elbow, and I'll be thinking how nice it is that she likes to be near me. No. She's lurking, like some sort of fuzzy little vulture, waiting for me to get out of the furshlugginer chair.
Sometimes, if I work too long to suit her, she will put out a paw and push on my elbow. Proactive. "Get out of my chair." Stupid cat.