Readers, before you accuse me of having a "Bah! Humbug!" attitude toward this holiday season, please know that I love Christmas.
It's just that I won't put up a Christmas tree.
That's not to say I've never put up a tree. When I lived in Walnut Creek in the mid-1990s, I put up live Christmas trees. Usually the tree was no more than 5 feet high because I lived alone and had to bring it home by myself. I made the tree my own, with glass ornaments and ornaments of the early 1960s Barbie, teddy bears, and Disney's versions of Winnie the Pooh and Tigger. I decorated the tree with miniature colored lights and a tinsel garland. The tree was in a corner of my dining area near the window where others could see it.
When I adopted my first cat Tuff-Punk in 2004, I realized that putting up a Christmas tree was no longer an option. He would bat the ornaments and try to remove the tinsel garland with his teeth. Moreover, he would try to eat the Douglas fir needles. I resigned myself to putting a wreath on my door and letting that be the end of it.
Three years ago, I bought an 18-inch fake tree that looks like a reject from "A Charlie Brown Christmas." But I was proud of having a tree and put it on my piano. I was happy -- until my other cat, Diva, climbed atop the piano and knocked the tree over. She thought knocking over my holiday decoration was a game. Sighing, I put the tree back in the upstairs storage area I call the "Shag Room." (More on that in a future post.)
The new "Simon's Cat" cartoon (http://www.simonscat.com/santaclaws.html) prompted me to write this entry. I remind myself that Christmas isn't always about decorations. It's about the birth of Christ and the love of friends and family, even if your family includes furry friends.
Writing Diva
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