The Christmas Tree War by Bea Tifton

Beth Trissel is feeling a little under the weather so I’m filling in. 

It’s a common story. People with cats trying to maintain a fully decorated Christmas tree. I’ve never had a full size tree, being single, so I’ve never had a problem. But this year I was hosting the family Christmas celebration. I have senior cats except for one, so I knew that my tree would be fine. Wait. Except for one. One small, adorable tornado. 

 I’ve had eight month old Grace since she was two weeks old when I agreed to foster her and bottle feed her. I watched her eyes change from a cerulean blue to their current green and witnessed her curled little ears expand. She’s imprinted on me and she loves to follow me around the house, fascinated with everything. 

Especially one Christmas tree. My parents moved this year after a series of serious health problems, and since we’re all pooped, we decided on a very low key Christmas. We weren’t even going to decorate the tree, deciding to just have the lights. I did add a few ornaments at the last minute.
From the moment it appeared in the living room, well before we decorated, Grace was enthralled. She ignored both pricey cat trees we have and inspected the Christmas tree. When she batted at the branches, I said no and she backed off. Great. Problem solved. 

Problem not solved. I walked past the tree one night and realized it was shaking. A furry little body bounced down and ran away. And so it went. Grace watched us put on the lights, her eyes big as she followed our steps. I put on the ornaments and crossed my fingers.Grace batted at a few ornaments but didn’t dislodge them. She didn’t climb the tree again.

But one morning I walked in and my slipper crunched on something. One of my vintage red ornaments and my little green owl ornament were on the floor. They’d been cruelly murdered in the night. I saw a telltale little ear, trying hard to be very still, and scolded Grace. She’d never been scolded before and she seemed to take it very seriously. I sighed and swept up all the twinkly little pieces. 

That evening, darned if I didn’t walk past and realize the tree was shaking again. I said Grace’s name and a furry little face with huge eyes popped through the boughs. What the heck. I knew when I was beaten. I just put a red bow on her and let her be. 

Hope you had a great holiday and have a wonderful new year.