Eventually he decided that the back of the sofa was the best spot, because he had a better view of the hallway and of Buddah if he was on his way in. That didn't happen often, though. Buddah seemed to understand that the room was not his, and the few times he ventured in he took the furniture on the opposite side of the room. With only a few rare occasions, it was the neutral zone.
Max loved that room so much that it made the hassle of getting the stuff that had been in it--a treadmill, for one--out and the furniture in totally worth it. It was a comfortable, safe space, and in his last month he rarely ventured out.
We pushed them out--it was a hell of a lot easier than getting them in, for some reason--and put them outside, on the driveway. I put a notice up on Facebook on a local page, offering them up, and within an hour someone texted, wanting them.
The room is no longer Max's bedroom, and I somehow managed to easily make the switch in my head. It's now the bike room, with one on the trainer and one hanging on the wall, with room on the floor for another if I ever have a reason to bring another into the house.
I filled his space with a Dammit Machine.
I can hear his exasperated little sigh from here.