Last year at Christmas, Maxx was this big. He discovered that he was just MADE for climbing trees and was so very pleased when we put one up in the living room just for him.
"Hi! I'm Kitten-Maxx and I weigh approximately 5 pounds."
Apparently, the Christmas tree is one of Maxx's fondest kitten-hood memories. We didn't get the first ring of branches attached to the "trunk" when this happened:
We would shoo him off and attempt to continue with assembling the tree...turn our backs and:
"I feel very debonair in my bowtie. Someone get me a deal with Hallmark."
Maxx may still feel like a kitten...but he weighs about 18 pounds now:
"Entertaining AND delicious! Nom, nom, nom."
The tree is now secured to an anchor bolt in the ceiling. I still have my doubts about how long it can possibly take this kind of abuse:
"A quick 180 turn back into the tree and they will never even see me!"
Do you see the Popsicle-stick snowflake directly to the left of the fuzzy cat-butt? It was our first casualty. Sometime in the night it was batted down to the floor where it was unceremoniously (I assume) destroyed by the dog(s):
Daughter made that snowflake back in 2000, when she was 4 years old. Sigh.
So far today, Maxx has been content to lounge under the tree, king of all he surveys from the depths of his (artificial) conifer hideout.
Awww, that's adorable :) We have a gray cat that does exactly the same thing :D
ReplyDeleteSarah Allen
(From Sarah, with Joy)
Ours survived the hordes of grandkids..and they were with us for 3 days. I'm impressed.
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