~ Charles Dickens
Every year, when I put up our Christmas tree (which friend Eve Mardis calls the green standy thing with cat toys), I think of Beastie. Beastie was a kitten our son adopted while in college. She was obviously a stray and showed up at his door during a terrible storm. (Yes, Virginia, despite what the song lyrics say, it actually does rain in California.)
She was hugely loyal, greeting him whenever he got back from class, waiting in the window for him (well, probably basking in some California sunshine, as well), and of course there was no way he could leave her alone over the Christmas holidays, so he drove her back to Arizona for Christmas with us.
Well. . . now, you have to understand the tree I had back in the days when I was in my Martha Stewart mode. It was about 12' tall, and proportionally wide at the bottom. It had a gazillion lights (okay, that might be an exaggeration), many strands of silver ribbon, and 2,000 Victorian style ornaments. I know that because one year after someone asked during a party, I counted them as a took them down. I was such a fantabulous tree, I even created a 24" miniature of it for the foyer table.
The minute Beastie entered the house, Kitty Scarlett -- our high-strung Siamese -- darted beneath the tree and stayed there, hidden behind the packages, for nearly the entire holiday. Our dog first bristled at the intruder, then realizing that for some unfathomable reason we actually wanted another cat in our home, proceeded to ignore it.
Beastie wasn't in the house more than three minutes when she spotted the dazzling, lit tree. And began to attack it. She'd knock off a glass decoration, then pounce on it to make sure it was truly shattered and dead. Then she'd take on another one. And another.
The great Christmas tree massacre went on for nearly an hour, until, showing great leaping ability, one ornament at a time, she'd cleared about the bottom four feet of the tree. Many of those ornaments had been purchased during our travels, so they held sentimental value, but the crazed leaping and crashing was so funny, my sweetie, son Patrick, and I just all sat there and laughed and laughed. To this day that remains one of my favorite Christmas memories.
Since Friday is Christmas and I'm sure many people will have better things to do than read blogs, I'm including the Friday Fun video in this post. This kitty isn't as crazed as Beastie, but you've got to give her huge points for determination!
Enjoy, and merry, merry to all, whatever you're celebrating this season!
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