This year, we’re getting real. Our Christmas tree didn’t come out of a box in the closet. Karen went out and killed this one. She wanted the house to smell like Christmas.
What’s even better, it’s just my size!
Its little branches can hold only a few ornaments, so we dug out the best —our own personal ones, of course — and those of the late Fred and Yul. I’m told those guys loved Christmas.
I helped decorate.
(Unfortunately, the camera flash doesn’t let you see how beautiful the tree is all lit up, so here’s another shot.)
Unfortunately, this tree has almost no smell at all. I check it every day.
Karen hung our stockings on the chimney with care, but she still hasn’t found a better alternative to all the stupid buttons on mine. So she let me raid her jewelry box and jazz it up with all her cat bling.
Once all the presents were in place, Cole conducted an inspection, found our section, and declared it a ColeZone. He’s taken a special interest in one sweet little parcel wrapped in red tissue paper.
Adele should go to work for the TSA. I think she must already know what Cole’s red present is.
Adele also became suspicious of a green present for our cousin Noel and wasted no time making sure Karen wasn’t trying to smuggle desirable flavors of Fancy Feast out of the house.
Me, I’m more interested in the tree. How often does a cat get a piece of the forest in his own living room? The only thing better would be if Karen invited my squirrel from the deck inside.
I’m looking forward to the Cats Working traditions of a special breakfast and playing with whatever Santa Kitty brings us, then settling back with treats and fresh ‘nip to watch Video Catnip.
It’s a wonderful life.
Adele, Cole, Karen, and I hope Santa Kitty is good to you and your kitties and you have holidays you’ll fondly remember.