Cat-mas season is here. This is a wonderful time of year when the humans decorate the home for us cats in anticipation of the visit from Santa Claws. The tree went up yesterday, and so did I. Made it to the fourth branch within the first five minutes before the Big Owner chased me out of the tree.
So, as I do every year, I waited and watched the humans decorate the
Cat-mas tree with all sorts of what the humans call "ornaments." I call them "cat toys."
Ornaments are invitations to a cat, bright and shiny spheres just daring a cat to knock them off. Every year the humans hang the ornaments a little higher out of my range, forcing me to elevate my game to knock them off. Humans "ohhh and ahhh" as they decorate the Cat-mas tree. I salivate in anticipation of the night's activities.
The humans retire to bed, as is custom during Cat-mas season, leaving me to play with my tree. Tonight is a challenge, the ornaments are at an all time high. I crept under the tree and began to scale branches. This is great! A tree in my own home, why don't they do this year-round? Five, six, seven branches, I climb like a pro. Ten, twelve, I am half way to the top, and there is the first ornament! This is easy as Cat-mas fruitcake.
I make my way down the branch approaching the first ornament. It lightly jiggles as my weight causes the bough to bend. Almost there! One paw away and I feel a shudder. Something is not right, I begin to lose my balance. The room is tilting! No, the room is not tilting, the Cat-mas tree is falling! It seemed like forever as the tree leaned, then pitched, and finally crashed to the floor in a resounding bang of exploding bulbs, ornaments, and broken limbs. I quickly extricated myself from the splintered tree just as the Big
Owner game bursting in snapping on the lights. There I was, sitting
next to the tree, as innocent a look on my face as any other in the household.
"What happened?" he growled. Not a peep from me, I turned and looked at the tree. "I guess we hung too many ornaments on one side of the tree," I heard him say later as he hoisted the mangled Cat-mas tree back into place.
"Good answer," I thought. The Big Owner staggered off to bed, and I
retreated to the living room. Maybe I'll tear down those stockings that were hung by the chimney with care.
It was good day.
From the Cat Diary
To Subscribe, email to firstname.lastname@example.org
Copyright 1999 Mark Mason All Rights Reserved