How My Cat Confiscated Christmas
You can translate everything about cats that goes viral on the Internet into a Christmas experience. In this way, you can grasp how my cat Horace literally steals the season. Viral videos prove cats haughtily occupy dogs’ beds, and it’s clear they don’t give a crap. Well, neither do they care about the effects of tearing open Christmas gifts, attacking ornaments, or ripping Christmas tree limps off. Cats also frequently plop themselves down on computer keyboards and books, in demand of attention. They just as unashamedly steal everything in Santa stockings before the intended recipients can see their surprises.
Cat in Charge
I have a prized collection of ceramic Christmastown pieces that were hand-painted by a sister who lives too far away to visit very often. They must now remain carefully sealed in a box throughout the jolly season. Two years ago, my cat pushed the tiny Christmastown church, the bakery, and the grocery store off the fireplace mantle. I drank some wine that night and seriously contemplated whether Horace is worth sacrificing my favorite parts of the season. The evil feline chose those moments to massage my tummy gently with his paws while purring in an adorable way reminiscent of the kitty version of his fat self. The cat won the battle, and I’ve been surrendering more and more of Christmas ever since.
Stubbornly and with great thought, I’ve tried to hang onto Christmas. When Horace peed on the gifts, I got smart and moved them to a china cabinet. But he found his way in there somehow and unwrapped all of them. Then he pushed them onto the floor. Then he peed on them.
When he climbed into the tree for the first time that I saw, I scolded him. He ignored me, and the number of separated limbs on the floor below kept growing, along with the pile of fallen ornaments. The garland began to be all out of whack and then I realized the lights were being pushed down to the bottom of the tree. All the while, I was trying in vain to think of ways to save the tree.
One doesn’t simply stop a cat from destroying a Christmas tree.
I have my pride. Now that I’ve surrendered Christmas to Horace, my home shows no sign that Santa will soon be on his way. I pretend I’m not a believer, when friends discover that my home is devoid of seasonal décor. I also cry myself to sleep at night and visit one or another Christmas-y mall just about every day. Oh, and I play the Hallmark Christmas movies on cable TV 24-7 and tell myself that, in this small way, I have triumphed. It’s a lie. Horace has totally confiscated Christmas.