JT hoped that I would consent to keep our Christmas tree forever; Tiger and Lucy concurred. Besides the obvious (my mom is coming to visit in February and if she arrived to a tree still up in the living room, the shock might slow her down when it comes to catching up our laundry), the main objection I had to this arrangement was that the cats have become rather emboldened with regard to said greenery.
Lucy really loves Christmas trees and she spent a lot of time underneath the full boughs of this year's tree, pretending to be the commander of the forest. Tiger had taken to batting the lower branches, and showing them who was boss. Both cats had given an effort to climbing up the tree and sitting in the lower branches.
As the tree grew drier and the cats grew braver, it was easy to see that a disaster was in the offing. One of them would climb in the tree and lay in wait to attack the other and then the whole tree, the ornaments, and the lights, would come crashing down. Most likely in the middle of the night. To great caterwauling.
So on Sunday evening the tree received its eviction notice. Just pulling it out from its corner was a rather tenuous affair, as the tree wobbled dangerously. But JT and I righted it, removed the ornaments and lights, and then hauled the now defrocked tree to the back deck. On Monday, I threw it on the mountain of snow in the front yard to await a trip to the town mulch pile.
Yesterday morning, as I came downstairs, the cats were sitting in front of the back window, looking with longing at the tree, now on its side on the back deck. I have to say that I too will miss it. It was the most beautiful tree that we've had, the center of a very happy Christmas, and a magical reminder of the the power of believing.