Hi all you cat lovers out there, Mr. Monte here. Old Fuzz Face let me at the keyboard tonight without a fight, a fuss, or any deep, painful scratches. It seems he and I have declared a truce for Advent. I guess it’s because of that “naughty or nice” thing imposed by St. Nicholas. More likely, it’s because that pointy-headed twerp, Clyde the Elf, is a lowdown snitch and blabbermouth. (See SFH Journal: 2018-12-04 through 07.)

Speaking of Clyde, I keep hearing sighs, moans, whines, and complaining noises because Blondie can’t find him. Fuzz Face is up here with me laughing quietly to himself. Poor guy, his turn is next and Blondie is better at this silly game than he is.

So, the two of them, after four years of cowardice, finally got the nerve and gumption to bring a Christmas tree into Serendipity Farmhouse. Since I entered their lives, bringing untold sunshine and happiness, they have assumed that I, the most intelligent and well-behaved of Maine Coon cats, could not be trusted. Just because I love to play with things that are round, things that hang down, things that sparkle, and things that shine, they thought that I would cause some type of damage.

They also have this fear that I will eat things I shouldn’t. They think that I would chew on branches, or climb into the tree, or some other, perhaps unspeakable, cat-like thing to a real tree. Oh, they have so little faith. But, I digress.

Today, Fuzz Face assembled (with Blondie’s guidance) the most hideous replica of fir tree any right-minded person or cat could imagine. They reasoned (if humans are truly capable of conscious thought) that I would be less likely to approach or harm an artificial tree.

Then they stared at the tree. They fluffed up the stupid looking bottle brush branches. Then they stared again. They tried to say nice things about that mutant, green creation and bring themselves to imagine that it wasn’t really that ghastly. Sometimes, I wish I could protect them from their follies.

Pictures were taken. Blondie, dressed in a very strange looking hat, made great sport of hanging a single decoration high up, where it was thought that I would not be able to get to it. I love Blondie a lot. She looked happy. That helped my heart to soften a bit. Perhaps that tree has some merits. Even Fuzz Face appeared to be taken by the thought of having a tree in the house once again.

Now it was time to allow me to make my required examination of the strangely lit faux fir. Intriguing as the thing was to my catly curiosity, it seemed oddly out of place and its odor was so synthetic and unnatural. Blondie was smart enough to see my displeasure and she brought out her old remedy – feline pheromone spray. —- That did it! True it was artificial and unnatural, but my sides began to buzz with purring and, before I knew what was happening, I was rolling on the floor and rubbing against the tree – we were friends. Yeah, I might have made a couple of attacks on one of the branches and taken a few bites at it but, in the end, the tree and I are on good terms now.

Serendipity Farmhouse History: It has been our family tradition to set up the Christmas tree every year on December 8th, the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception. This year, even though it is faux, the tree is again inside in it’s rightful place.

Directly behind the tree is small sewing sampler that says a lot about our family and Serendipity:

DEAR HOUSE

You’re really very small

Just big enough for

LOVE

That’s All