I am going to hurt the boys’ cats, Trogdor (seriously, that’s his name…) and Rocko, if they do not leave my primitive Christmas tree ALONE!
I cannot put up a big tree (not that I mind) because the cats consider it a jungle gym. One year, Rocko got tangled in the lights and was hanging upside-down by one leg, howling. Dakota thought he was going to have to cut the light strand to free him. While Dakota searched for scissors, Rocko fell to his freedom. They have knocked off ornaments, shaken loose the needles (even when it was an artificial tree), played in the water when it was a real tree and made the garland sag to the floor.
This year, I said, “Nope. Not gonna do it.” I will just put up my happy little primitive trees, 4 of them, ranging in size from 1 foot to 4 feet. The cats have taken that as a personal challenge and daily attack the 4-footer … while I am at work. Each day I come home from work to set up, rearrange, fluff and add weights to the stand of the tree. The cats innocently ignore the tree in my presence. They curl up cozily by my side on the couch. They do not acknowledge my anger and frustration.
Seriously. One of these days…. but probably not today ….