I sat on the couch in the living room, watching the lights blink merrily on our freshly unboxed and decorated Christmas tree. The tree itself isn’t fresh, mind you; we haven’t had a fresh tree in about 15 years. No, this was all plastic, with built in lights that could be either white or multi-colored, or could switch between the two at quick intervals.
Freddie jumped up on the couch beside me and looked in the direction I was looking. “It’s back,” he observed.
“It is,” I agreed. “It’s that time of year again.”
“Time for the big people toy,” he said, sagely.
“Yeah — wait, what?”
You know how this works, but as always, a gentle reminder:
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“It’s like my ball or my kite,” he said. “But no catnip that I can smell.”
“We don’t chase it,” I explained.
“No, but I don’t chase all of my toys, either.”
I thought about that. “You don’t chase the ones you don’t like,” I said.
“Sometimes I don’t chase them because I don’t want to, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like them. I’d be upset if you moved them,” he said.
“But you don’t play with them,” I pointed out.
“No, but they’re mine. So they should stay put.”
We were both silent for a moment, considering.
“So you think the tree is like your catnip kite, but for people?” I asked.
“What else would it be?” he asked.
“It’s a decoration. Isn’t it pretty?”
“Yes,” he said.
I put my arm around him and pulled him toward me, making him stumble a bit, but succeeding in getting him snuggled up against me. I started to rub his back and he purred his appreciation. “I’m glad you think of it the way you do,” I said. “We’ve had other cats who didn’t see it the same way.”
“Like Desi?” he asked.
I laughed. “Oh, yes. Desi liked to climb the tree when she was young. She’d get almost to the top and then just kind of hang out there, like she wasn’t sure what to do next.”
“When she got older she was content to sleep under the tree, so that was an improvement. But when she was young she liked to take things that were shiny and hide them away in odd places. One time I found one of my watches in the Christmas tree!”
“She put it there?” he asked.
“No one else would admit to it and it wasn’t the first time she had taken it.”
“And then there was Homer,” I told him, laughing at the memory. “He was before your time so you never knew him. He was a big orange tabby, a little like you, but darker. He was vicious when it came to the tree.”
“What did he do?”
“He went for the ornaments,” I said.
“He liked to get into the tree, knock one of the ornaments down, and then bat it around until it broke. Then he’d go back to the tree and get another. By the time Christmas day rolled around, the bottom half of the tree would be bare of ornaments!”
“He broke them?”
“He did!”
“What did you do about that?”
“Once we bought a set of ornaments that were supposed to be unbreakable,” I explained.
“And what did he do?” he asked.
“He broke them!” I said, laughing.
I stroked his fur from his head to his tail. “I’m grateful that you ignore the tree,” I said. “So we don’t have to do crazy things to protect it anymore.”
Freddie was quiet and I realized it had been a while since he said anything. “What are you thinking?” I asked him.
“I never saw it like that before,” he said, softly.
“Like what?”
“Like something I could climb.”
“It’s not!” I said, mildly panicking.
“And those ornaments are pretty dangly...”
“No! No, they aren’t!”
“And shiny, too. I bet those round ones would move just like my ball does.”
“Nope!” I said, become slightly frantic. “There’s no catnip or anything on them!”
“Hmmm,” he said.
“You know,” I said, “we should probably just leave this room.”
He looked up at me. “Why?”
“Uh — “ I cast about, frantic. “My laptop!” I practically shouted. “It’s in the other room!”
“So…?”
“So we can watch squirrels on it! And chipmunks!”
He stood up. “And mice?”
“And mice! And birds!”
He jumped off the couch and headed for the exit, the tree forgotten. I stood and followed him, grateful for how much he enjoys watching cat tv. “That was close,” I muttered to myself.
“I’ll be back to check out the tree later,” he called over his shoulder.
“Dammit,” I said. I loved Homer dearly, and still miss him, but he was not a good role model for my sweet little guy. “It’s just a people toy!” I said.
Happy Caturday, Peeps! This was all true; Homer did break every ornament he could reach until we finally just stuck to decorating the top half of the tree only, and Desi did like to climb it and leave trinkets for safe-keeping. She liked things that were soft or shiny and would squirrel them away in odd places. And my sweet little Freddie doesn’t even seem to see the tree, thank goodness. Do your pooties leave it alone (or other decorations you put up, if you don’t get a tree)?