We used to have a house blessed over the years with a dog and several cats. They’ve all gone to the Rainbow Bridge – dying of incurable maladies or just plain old age. I think about them each year when I hang ornaments on our tree. Opening our decorations box with decades of collected treasures is like running into an old friend on the street and stopping at the local coffee shop for a quick latte and catch-up update. Here’s what I think our dog, if she were still here, would say about Christmas:
Oh boy, oh boy! Looks like Dad is wrestling with that big box he drags in from the garage each year just about this time. I know he plans to plop that lump of a tree that smells like plastic into that wobbly stand. Then Mom reminds him he forgot the Ho Ho Santa skirt. Then Pop mutters some unChristmasy words while Mom hunkers down and slides the felt thingy under the tree while Pop holds it up and says, “For Pete sakes – could you take any longer?”
I love that Ho Ho skirt – it’s sprinkled with fur from me and the cats that live here. Each year I wait for the humans to go to bed. Then when the lights are out, I pick a Santa ornament hand made by Gramma at her craft class. I intend to carefully pick it off a low branch and then just carry it around. But the fragrance of glue and the scent of Gramma’s nimble fingers gets to me. I just have to chew – and my teeth could use a cleaning anyway.
Meanwhile, Chelsea, the cat, is sizing up that twinkling, shiny thing at the very top of the tree. Good old Chelsea’s about the best jumper I’ve ever seen. And “Can she climb?” you ask. It takes her about two wags of my tail and there she is bobbing at the top of the tree, batting at that angel. I thought angels could fly but this one mostly tips and bumps her way to the carpet, followed by Miss Kitty who bats her about as if she is a soon-to-be-dead mouse.
I know there are lots of things the folks could get me for Christmas. Most of them seem to involve Mom and Dad and that rectangle thing they each carry with them and pat with their thumbs. I’m smarter than they think. I can navigate the park faster than any Google Maps lady. But my natural instincts tell me it’s cool to just play dumb and act like I’m not excited about maybe getting my very own electronic Petzi pet treat dispenser. I just hope they won’t fall for the Wonderwoof Activity Tracker. It would spoil my nap time when they’re away. I know Chelsea is hoping for her very own CD: Music Cats Love While You Are Gone. She tells me she plans to play it on her DJ Furball scratch-able turntable.
So now you see why this is such a fun time of year. Me and the cats are best buds and, if we’re just dumb animals, not too smart, how do you think we wrote this article? For me, it’s just natural instinct. But that special “Bark to Text App” I’m hoping for would make it a lot easier.
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all.