While my cat is too elderly and too stubby-legged to really climb the Christmas tree, Daisy did spend yesterday evening walking across wrapped presents, disturbing baubles and going to sleep in a tissue-paper-filled-box as if she’d been waiting all her sixteen years for the opportunity. In personality, Daisy is an interesting cross between Queen Victoria (primness, prissiness, dowager sensibilities) and Henry VIII (foul mouth and dietary habits). Being a tortoiseshell with white bib and legs, a prettier cat would be hard to imagine. She is very loving and never, ever shuts up. Except when asleep in a shoebox.
Apparently I’m now a cat blogger. Merry Christmas.