My tree is still up but most of its needles are on the floor. I tried to steer the girls down the three-footer aisle at the Christmas-tree lot, but somehow we came home with our usual seven-footer. This one was a beaut, though, I had to admit—full and perfectly shaped, with no “hole” to hide in back. Every day it seemed I had to fill the tree stand with water, but I guess a healthy tree drinks a lot. And this was one healthy tree!
In fact, the tree still looks pretty good all these weeks later, even with its brown, twiggy branches exposed. Last night we took off the ornaments and packed away the Christmas angel from the top. We’ll leave the lights on till the weekend, when we drag the whole thing outside. I swept up a mound of needles, filled the tree stand with water and went to the kitchen to have a glass myself before bed.
On my way upstairs, I stopped to turn out the tree lights. Who came crawling out from under the wide bottom branches but our black cat, Luna. “What are you doing hiding under there?” I asked. Luna stretched out her front paws—and shook water from her whiskers!
I used to call her our Halloween cat, but that’s changed. She’s a Christmas cat through and through, an animal angel who made sure our tree wasn’t overwatered. Little did we know we had a Christmas angel on top of our tree and one hiding underneath.
