Christmas Cats…hug yours
People think there’s a thing called ”cat people”, and all others are relegated to a category called “people who are just…not”. I think even people who are allergic to cats are cat people, if they give a special cat a chance. Yes, cats can be aloof, but they can also be the best friends you might find on a cold winter evening…or an early, gray, rainy morning when you’d rather see your 20-year-old child in your doorway, greeting you with an invitation to go get coffee, and shop the day away. It’s Christmas, after all.
Hug your cat, your dog, your mate, or your children (if they’re still huggable)…all of them, if you’re that lucky, and get ready to gather together on Christmas Day. We’re doing just that. We’re doing those things we knew as traditions before Owen died, and we’re creating new ones because life does go on. Dave is cooking, I’m wrapping presents, and we’re paying special attention to our cats.
These are the same cats that tore up presents under the trees, dislodged the lights from the lower branches, and rolled around on the gift wrap while we tried to finish those last perfect corners with tape that didn’t show. This is a vision of times past, years of depending on the same routines. Routine is something rendered to memory now.
Tonight, as I was wrapping the last of Trey and Ruby’s presents, Audrey (Owen’s developmentally disabled kitty), rolled around on the wrapping paper, and I freaked out. NO KITTY HAIR on the wrapping paper, was all I could think. Then, I remembered. Kids don’t notice those details. They notice things like, cool, I got the presents I hoped for.
So, I cleaned up the table, organized my space better, and got the paper and ribbons off the floor. Audrey found a new place to sprawl out. I finished my wrapping chores, and prepared myself for an evening of relaxation and movies. That evening, the one I hoped for, was delayed a bit.
Dave and I had to make a trip to town to buy something for Nat and Anna that wasn’t going to make the deadline for Christmas. We had ordered it online, and it was scheduled to be late. So, we cancelled the online order, and went to a MALL. Going to a mall, was an event in which we had promised ourselves we would not engage. We engaged. We made the drive, parked in the far reaches of the parking lot, hiked to the entry doors, made our purchase, and were back at our favorite restaurant for a glass of wine within an hour.
Afterwards, when we walked in the house with our purchase, we were greeted by our three cats. They appeard to be waiting for their wet food, more wrapping paper, and Christmas lights they could tear away from the lower reaches of our tree. Sadly, for them, we have no tree. Our Christmas tree this year, is one of those Charlie Brown sticks with barely recognizable branches, that Dave brought in from our front porch two days ago. It’s less than a foot tall, living in a terra cotta pot, and by tomorrow, will be dressed in miniature lights and a minimum of old Christmas decorations – only those that have significant meaning to the family. I can’t wait to decorate it. Unlike the hours it used to take, this tradition should take about 10 minutes. About the same time it takes for one of the cats to dismantle it.
We’re going to place the tiny tree on the dining room table, and since I’m off work for the next 10 days, I’m thinking I can monitor the cats’ activities. If not, there won’t be much to clean up.
We’ll be hugging our kids, our families, our friends, and our cats again this year. We always have, and we will always will. How will we hug Owen? I’m thinking we’ll hug his memories. I have no doubt, he’ll be hugging us back. And, there is no question, that he will be roughing up the fur of Sylvester, Audrey, and Princess. They were always his first greetings on Christmas mornings. They surely will be this year.
Video for the night: Funny Christmas Cats, http://www.icanhascheezburger.com