Cats and Trees

The Christmas tree came home with us yesterday. Luna took a shine to its red netting. She pawed at it until I cut it off to free the tree. Then she hid behind it (though, clearly, we could see her through it) and stalked Noah. Like last year, Noah was grumpy about the tree. He sulked about, giving it dirty looks, and then ignored it cat-style: turned his back squarely on the tree, sat down like a big cat-rock, and pointed a lone ear in its direction. Luna, meanwhile, began shrieking, a shrieking blur of black-and-white, speeding from one end of the condo to the other, possessed. Like an unfortunate seal, she was tangled in the net, her former source of stealth and power turned into a terrifying enemy. I caught her, mindful of the claws, and freed her hind legs. She calmed right down. I disposed of the netting.

With no netting to distract her, Luna could explore the bounty of the largest houseplant in the world. Oh, the chewability of its low branches. Oh, the fun of jumping higher and higher and higher next to it! Oh, the joy of lapping up tree water!!

I give the tree a week until it topples.