December 17/365 Happy Things

A report on the Christmas tree and the cats: Remarkably little damage.

Seneca did cement about five whiskers together with a big gob of pine sap (probably snagged when he was drinking from the magical elixir in the tree stand), which resulted in the loss of only one whisker. The tree skirt is catawampus each morning, probably from feline frolics or perhaps a tango. So far, no field mice in the tree or under the skirt (that was last year), and peace is still on earth.


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