There are few things more challenging—or joyous—than a feline Christmas. Over the years, you learn that you can never really cat-proof decorations, only make them somewhat more cat-resistant.
Clearly, there are some things that are just taboo in a house with fur babies, and hopefully you make this realization before investing in too many fragile, expensive baubles. A few years back, I was walking through a department store when I saw a set of three gorgeous, stemmed candle holders. Snowy, spun glass with a cardinal painted on each. I knew I had to have them for my mantle. I was halfway to the checkout register when I got a rare visit from the ghost of Christmas common sense. Spun glass, open flames, cats—none of this is a good idea. Sadly I put them back and looked for something less emblazoned with the word CATastrophe.
Last year I got a beautiful snow owl who felt like he was constructed of feathers hot glued to Styrofoam. Too heavy to serve his intended purpose as a tree topper, last year I wired him between the branches. This year he is perched on top of my mantle clock—at least at the moment. I’ve seen Mindy stalking him from the other end of the mantle, so it’s hard to predict his long term fate.
Last year the Nativity set was Mindy’s special interest. That creche has been part of my Christmas since childhood, so I always set it up with nostalgic precision. Since we always had cats, I’m sure numerous sheep served as pucks in quite a few games of cat hockey, but the larger figures were fairly safe. Mindy, however, seemed to take a special dislike for the third wise man. Several times I found him elbowed off the buffet. with Mindy transplanting herself as the last magi in the manger scene. Finally, like every enabling mother, I made up a reasonable excuse. I think Mindy misheard the scriptures and believed the kings were bringing the baby gold, frankincense, and fur. Clearly the third guy wasn’t doing his job and needed to be replaced by someone who knew all about fur. This year the sagacious trio seems to be safe, but a couple of shepherds have been toppled, and one morning baby Jesus himself was lying in the manger at a pretty precarious angle.
Actually, this year it’s the tree that has been most under siege. When I was a kid, we had a cat who toppled the tree while he was climbing it. Of course, that was when we still had real trees. Sometime in elementary school, my pediatrician surmised that the reason I had sniffles and rashes every year at Christmas might not be recurring measles but a pine allergy. An artificial tree solved cat and health problems. For a number of years I had tabletop trees—easy pickings for a determined feline. My late, beloved tortie Gilda was so proficient at knocking down the tree that I seriously considered a bungee cord. When I bought a five foot pre-lit beauty last year, I felt victorious.
Enter Logan, my newest addition, a little black Maine coon mix. Last week I watched him climb the tree by scaling the pole under the light cords
“You mean he was climbing its branches?” a friend asked.
“No, he was shimmying up the pole like a monkey.”
“So he’s Maine coon/capuchin mix?”
At this point that seems a likely lineage. After I lifted him out of the lights and warned him severely, I haven’t observed him climbing anymore. I say I haven’t observed, because after I go to bed, I’m probably better off not knowing what’s going on in the living room. Of course Nehi, my orange, fluffy diva, doesn’t even try to hide her misdeeds. When she tires of my pushing her face away from the branch she’s chewing on, she simply goes around to the back of the tree where it’s harder to reach her.
No Christmas would be complete without cat toys. This year I found the ideal toy a Kohl’s. Mice with electronic “squeals” as they are being batted around.
After the preliminary group examination, they were a hit, the perfect Christmas pastime.
At least they are perfect in the light of day when you can watch and enjoy the fun. To hear the interminable squeaks at night is not so much fun, but like every electronic toy, the novelty will wear off or it will probably be dead by the beginning of the new year.
Cats remain perpetual toddlers with fur. As adults we can become jaded. We become caught up in the obligations of the season and forget the wonder. With felines, there is never a shortage of wonder and curiosity and pure joy over decorations, Christmas wrapping, and empty boxes. There is never the teenage eye rolling of “this is so lame,” or the adult worrying about what you forgot to do. Just the pure joy of the season.
So this Christmas, take a cue from the kittens. Sit back with a bit of wassail and an open heart. Take a catnap when you need to. And have a purrfect holiday.