My Christmas Tree Post

This is my last post of the current year.

I told my human mom that I want to send Christmas greetings to all my kitty friends, but I need her help. I want to tell you about my Christmas tree.

I know many of my friends think the Christmas tree was put up so that they can play with all the shiny ornaments, the lights, the tinsel garlands and the bows. Not me. The tree is there for me to sleep under.

Don't get me wrong. I pawed at that little bell, but it didn't ring? What good's a bell if it doesn't ring. So, on my first trip toward the tree, I lay partly on the green rug, partly on the white "snow." This was after I took a thorough tour of the tree and sniffed the toys in the sleigh.

Once I was sure there was nothing that would hurt me, I curled up on the fake snow. It's very comfortable here. I can watch what is going on without worrying that I'll get under someone's feet. My mom can be very clumsy at times. Even when she watches out for me, I can circle around behind her. Then she steps on me. I squeal and earn plenty of pats and hugs. I'm never hurt, but I don't want her to know that. I'd miss my hugs and pats.

Now that the tree is mine, I can move deeper under it. By now, I'm at home and sound asleep, as opposed to the cat naps above. If you look closely, you can see I wasn't really asleep. No more fooling around, It was time for a serious nap. I usually stay under the tree for a couple of hours. Maybe longer. I always sleep next to the little sleigh. The toys keep me company. They don't come out to play until after dark. My mom and dad wonder why I'm so noisy about four in the morning. One of the little bears in the sleigh is quite a character. He likes to tweak my tail. I don't find that funny, so I chase him.

So after my middle-of-the-night romps, I have to retreat to the safety of my tree.

I wish you all a very Meowry Catsmess and a Happy New Year.

With Apologies, But I Couldn't Stop Her

Dear friends, family, cousin cats, and not a single (or married) dog,

Another wonderful year, nearly completely lacking in drama, at least from a pussycat’s perspective, is winding to a close. My humans, Terry and Betsy say otherwise – their cruise, Betsy’s company’s bankruptcy, and decisions on Betsy’s retirement – provided drama enough. They’re still news junkies and get all riled up over silliness. Like Sarah Palin’s book. Or Lou Dobbs leaving CNN. Or Glenn Beck on everything.

The year started with my humans abandoning me for nearly two weeks. They went on a cruise, whatever that is. All I know is that involves water and a boat. We live on a lake. They have a boat. Why did they have to leave me?? At any rate, they cruised in the Caribbean, got suntanned, and loved it. I, on the other hand, was jailed. They call it camp, but it is jail. They better not take a cruise this coming year.


Terry and his ski buddies went to Vermont for their week of falls, sliding downhill on butts, beer, and no wives. It was the 15th annual Men to Pigs ski trip and another is planned for 2010. Sigh. I don’t like snow. I can prove it. Why would anyone want to go where it’s cold? I don’t get it.

After the ski trip, when it began to warm up, Terry’s motorcycle friends, the Wild Hogs (do you see a pattern here? I do.) began their summer touring season. They took a couple of longer trips to races and day trips all over the area.

My other human, Betsy, worried about her company’s bankruptcy. While it was supposed to be short, and while they had funding lined up – they thought – turned out that they didn’t have the money, couldn’t get more money, and ended up being pecked into small pieces by a flock of ducks. Betsy was really planning to retire, until one of the acquiring ducks, Deloitte, made her the same offer she already had. She took it and remains paying into social security. And keeping me in nice cat food, thank you very much.

Betsy continues to write. She won a regional “best unpublished novel contest” for Unintended Consequences, made the transformation from “free”lance to freelance, and is now paid for her bi-monthly column in the local paper.

Both of my humans remain involved volunteering for not-for-profits. It keeps them busy, but at least neither travels for work. I get to have both of them around all day every day.

Once again, my humans left me for several weekends this year. They went to see Cousin Aleta, Cousin Neal and Dickens in New York, and Navy football in Annapolis for five weekends.

My humans are healthy, but I have “the Arthur,” as locals call it. I’m getting creaky at 15.

And speaking of age, my male human, Terry, turns 70 this year. My female human through him a surprise birthday party early in December, well before the actual date. My cousins Aleta, Rachael, Chris and Laura came down from New York. Auntie Betty and Uncle Arthur came over from Indiana, and Uncle Chan drove up from North Carolina. Terry said he had no idea that she was planning the party. I thought she’d be in the dog house – ROTF LOL – but he loved his party.

To all my friends – Dickens, Amber and Ashley, Rosie and O’Grady, Anubis and Slinky, Midnight and Queenie, Jasmine and Gracie, Biscuit and Waffle, Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac, Chloe and Jim-Bob, and Blackie and Spats – I wish you a Meowy Christmas and a Happy 2010.

Anyway, that’s all the news from Smith Mountain Lake. We love our life down here. Y’all come and see us, you hear.

Note from the blog owner: I really tried to stop Nikki, but she demanded to have her way. And now, I'm going to wrap up my scratches and bites. Never mess with a calico who is armed and dangerous. Happy holidays to one and all.