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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.

Written
by: Mark
Mason
From Cat Diary,
© 1999
All Rights
Reserved
Used with the author's kind permission.
Visit
the author's web site.


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