Once again, there lays our Beloved Bully Bear, fallen from his carefully selected perch, the victim of the climbing hijinks of the baby black cat. It is of course, a Christmas tradition. Tree goes up, cat goes up tree, down comes Bully Bear.
This year we got the tree up a couple of weeks before the big day. Down it went before it was even fully decorated. A careening cat, diving into the tree at Mach 2, will surely bring down the most stalwart of trees. We have a nice artificial tree, sturdy, and for the most part, cat proof. This year.. not so much.
The base gave up the ghost, cracked almost beyond the wonders of super glue. It held, barely. Still, the tree spent two weeks on the floor, in various heaps. Nothing we tried dampened the persistance of that darn cat.
Canned air got her to hide under the couch until we let our guard down, then up the tree she went. Shoes and assorted projectiles did nothing. The momma cat hissing at her and batting the kitten ears barely registered. Even the dreadful moniker of Mundane Noodle, screamed at her as only a six year old can muster, did not deter her in the least.
I admit, I gave up.
Then on Christmas eve, we righted the tree in one last attempt to weather the kitten storm. Mom went to work. Me, middle son, and the t-k went over to my Dad's house. We arrived back home to find the tree, with momma cat sleeping on the skirting, still standing. As people owned by cats, we were cautiously optimistic and headed to bed.
Christmas morning and the tree still stood, presents flowing from underneath. Two cats perched on the outer edge, doing the catnap. All was good. The tree made it through the night and into the day.
Now, as I sit here, the little tree that could, is still standing. For the past five days, the wee kitten has ignored the tree. It is a cat thing. I am tempted to leave it right there until next year. Two can play that game. I am, after all, the top of the food chain! I am the master of my domain. My brain is as big as that cat and I can reason, use tools. I have opposable thumbs...
But it does occur to me, she is the cat.
And I, well I am.. the mouse.