However, since this has been, physically speaking, the toughest xmas I've experienced, I'm rather grouchy and I would like to be a curmudgeon on the subject of cats under trees.
My family and I went to visit my wife's mom today. This was our only chance to share the holidays with her, so we went to exchange gifts and eat a hearty xmas dinner and generally just hang out at the old home place. My mother-in-law also has a cat, also has a xmas tree, and the cat has claimed his spot beneath said tree.
This is her cat, Smokey, under her tree:
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Yes, yes, yes. Smokey is oh-so-bleeding cute under the xmas tree. Indeed.
As any of the folk who frequent this blog will know, and as those of you who know me can attest, I feel that animals have emotions and feelings and personalities and that they are not the automatons that most people are brought up believing of animals. Smokey, too, has a personality.
He's a total fucking asshole.
So, just to add a cat-under-the-tree notation before the holiday. An asshole cat, at that. Smokey, a real bastard.
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