Christmas is my favorite holiday. Every room in my house is decorated, even my bathroom. The Christmas tree is a glittering triumph, covered with my ever growing collection of glass ornaments. But how do you keep three cats away from a big, shiny toy?
You place the tree in the front window and move the cat tree from there to its new location next to the secretary, the highest point in the house which can only be accessed for a few weeks each year. The top platform of the cat tree loses its appeal as a coveted perch and instead becomes the launch pad for furry rockets on their way to the tippy top of the one piece of furniture that cannot normally be reached.
That’s Rory, who joined our family in May. I posted this picture of him soon after his arrival. He was just skin and bones covered with scraggly fur. It’s amazing what a few months of quality food and lots of TLC can do. He has filled out nicely. I’m no longer afraid that he will break when I pick him up. His coat is silky and lustrous, rivaling that of my purebred Maine Coon. He loves people, naturally assuming the role of Official Greeter. “A” tells me that he is quite a conversationalist. He rarely talks to me, preferring instead to stretch out on my lap, eyes closed, kneading my belly while purring up a storm.