A Christmas Message From The Cat

I watch as my key slides into the lock on the front door of my apartment. I listen to the clicking and clacking of tumbling parts working to grant me entrance to my apartment. I open the door, and I am greeted by a very loving gray long-hair cat purring and rubbing up against my black vegan leather ankle boots. As I unfold my body back into an upright standing position after gently petting the friendly feline, my jaw drops in horror as I witness the spirit and the aftermath of Krampus.

The green four-foot tall Christmas tree is leaning to the side as if it were trying to peer around a corner to see what was coming next. The sparkly silver tinsel has been partially ripped away from the tree’s branches — the part of the ravished tinsel trails behind tens of small glittery globes of gold, green, and red. Many of the decorative balls have been strewn about the apartment.

I look over to the cat who is using her paw to punt the Christmas ornament like a cat-sized soccer ball, which makes me sigh. Why try and decorate your residence for Christmas if you have a tiny vigilante with a vendetta for the holidays bent on wrecking the simple pleasures of our traditional winter celebrations?

My sister gestures over to the lopsided tree. “We should probably fix that,” she says shrugging her shoulders.

I think back to the ongoing battle to protect my little patchwork of Christmas within my home. “Just leave it,” I say. “She obviously wanted it that way.”

My sister turns to the cat who is happily running her claws through the scratching post. “See what you did? You ruined Christmas.” The cat’s ears go back for a moment giving us the message that she fully understands the two frustrated humans staring at her. Her reaction to the statement was to lightly prance over to the tree and hide underneath the branches that have already been chewed by her little cat mouth.

With her wide eyes poking out from within the tree’s bent branches, she tells us that she is in charge and that we must celebrate the holidays her way with sparkly objects mistaken for cat toys scattered about the house. She knows that we will fix the tree once more and pet her again. In the back of my mind, I consider the engineering needed to mount the Christmas tree to the ceiling.