I fell onto the couch with a sigh, one hand on my still very full belly. Freddie looked up from his spot next to me, curled up on the furry blanket in the little nest I had made for him before we had left. “I’m so full,” I told him.
“I was alone,” he observed.
I reached out to pet him. “I’m sorry,” I said. “But you wouldn’t have wanted to come. There were a lot of people there.”
He shuddered a little. “I wouldn’t have wanted to come,” he agreed.
“But we’re home now and it’s going to be a long holiday weekend. We’ll hang out together.” I thought about it. “Well. I still have to work. But we’ll hang out anyway.”
He sighed.
A gentle reminder of how we do things: 🐱🐶🐦
- Do not troll the diary. If you hate pootie diaries, leave now. No harm, no foul.
- Please do share pics of your fur kids! If you have health/behavior issues with your pets, feel free to bring it to the community.
- Pooties are cats; Woozles are dogs. Birds... are birds! Peeps are people.
- Whatever happens in the outer blog STAYS in the outer blog. If you’re having “issues” with another Kossack, keep it “out there.” This is a place to relax and play; please treat it accordingly.
- There are some pics we never post: snakes, creepy crawlies, any and all photos that depict or encourage human cruelty toward animals. These are considered “out of bounds” and will not be tolerated. If we alert you to it, please remember that we do have phobic peeps who react strongly to them. If you keep posting banned pics...well then...the Tigress will have to take matters in hand. Or, paw.
“It’s time to start planning for Christmas,” I continued, ignoring his drama.
Freddie frowned, looked over his shoulder toward the front of the house, then back at me.
“Yes, the tree is already up. We needed the extra cheer this year.”
“I can see that,” he said.
“But there’s still presents to buy, and things to bake, and a big meal to plan for.”
He growled a little.
“No one is coming over here!” I assured him. “We’re going to someone else’s house and you’’ll be here where it’s quiet.”
“Alone,” he said.
“But quiet!”
I wrapped an arm around him and pulled him against my side in a hug. I’d gone too long without cuddling him.
“Human, no,” he squeaked.
“What do you want Santa to bring to you?” I asked. “You have a stocking too, you know.”
“Santa’s coming?” he asked, grinning up at me, his previous struggle forgotten.
“In about a month,” I said. “What do you know of Santa?”
“I know you better bake some cookies,” he said, looking away but settling down against my hip and thigh.
“Have you met Santa?” I whispered, not really believing it.
“I’m just a cat,” he said, dodging me. I shrugged, letting him get away with it.
"Treats,” he said, answering my earlier question. “Maybe some tuna.”
“Right,” I said, making a mental note. “Maybe some toys, too,” I added.
“Boxes,” he said, sagely.
“Of course,” I answered, revising my mental list.
"I think we’ve decorated enough,” I said, thinking out loud. We really had gotten everything out early this year. It seemed necessary. I don’t generally love Christmas, but the last few years I’ve come around a little. And Christmas last year ended up being really important for our household morale. I hoped it would serve the same purpose this year.
"I am going to have to start planning out some baking projects,” I muttered. There was the family fruitcake (pitta m’pigliata to be precise) that would take a whole day, but then there were gifts for the neighbors and co-workers too. I was glad I didn’t have to do it all by myself.
“Cookies for Santa,” he suggested on a yawn.
“That too,” I said. “We gotta keep the big guy happy.”
“So he gives us good treats,” he agreed.
“Have you met Santa?” I asked again, frowning down at him and reevaluating my whole belief system.
“Who?” he asked, closing his eyes.
I eyed him suspiciously, but moved on with my Christmas brainstorming. “I should make that yule log again,” I told Freddie. It was not very hard and looked really neat.”
“It’s tuna?” he asked, opening his eyes in interest.
“Gingerbread cake and whipped cream,” I said, apologetically.
“That’s not as good,” he said, closing his eyes again.
“Just some human nonsense,” I agreed.
“I’ll need to make a trip to Home Goods for some festive plates to fill with treats for the neighbors,” I said, absently stroking his fur.
“Treats,” he repeated, sleepily.
“People treats,” I elaborated. “Homemade cookies and candies.”
“Tunaaaaaa,” he drawled, not totally awake.
“More like snickerdoodles and caramels,” I said.
"It’s going to be a good Christmas,” I said, putting it out into the universe.
Freddie stretched his front paws out in from of him, flattening his ears in a full body stretch, then laying his head between his outstretched arms. This was his serious sleep pose.
“You’ll have a good Christmas, too,” I told him, petting him gently.
“Me and Santa,” he murmured.
“What?” I said, louder than I intended.
He lifted his head, awake now, and said, “What?”
“Santa?” I demanded.
He yawned and laid his head back down. “I don’t even know who that is.”
Happy Caturday, Peeps! I hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving with plenty to eat and good company. And please note that when I say “we” put up the Christmas decor this is mostly a lie. My mom did it all. I did secure this year’s Knott’s Christmas ornament (which they did not make easy) and hung it on the tree, but that’s basically all I did. All Christmas cheer in Casa Freddie is because of her.
