Me vs Cat vs Xmas Tree

Every year it is an ongoing battle. I set up the fake Christmas tree. My cat, Mojo, decides immediately that the best way to help would be to jump in the box as I am trying to take out the branches. Repeatedly.

After the tree actually goes up (with much 'shooing' involved), I'm not sure quite what his thought process is like. Mojo is an indoor cat, although we adopted him as a little wee kitty cat when his mom abandoned him outdoors. He's a beautiful Maine Coon to whom everything is a toy.

Maine Coons, as a matter of fact, are highly regarded as one of the most playful, intelligent, and loyal cats out there. They are very hardy animals with highly water resistant fur coats, quick reflexes, and...large size. It is quite normal for a male Coon to grow up to about 20 pounds. That's 20 pounds of muscle I'm talking about, not fat.

Now if one takes this 20 pounds of intelligence, dexterity, cleverness, and playfulness and imagines what the fate of my Christmas tree might be, you get the idea of what I'm facing here. Maine Coons think nothing of opening cabinet doors or picking things up by curling the paws around them. I'm not kidding. They're like a feline monkey!!

The culprit, making a backpack his home. It should be noted that said backpack is still full of stuff, but this is of no consequence to Mojo. When he wants to do something, he does it.

So here I am. My fake tree is up, standing just over 6 feet tall in all its xmas tree light glory. And then saunters in Mr. Kitty....oh boy. He sits down in front of the tree and stares at it. I swear you can just see the gears in his head ticking. His thought pattern is evident in his eyes. "Hmmm. The humans have put up this giant green lit thing. Soon they will put shiny little balls and things that swing back and forth. My jungle gym will soon be complete!"

Kitty walks away. He knows whilst I stand guard his chances of full tree attack are at a minimum. I can only stay so long, however! Soon nature calls and I must abandon my post. Not 30 seconds later do I hear from the living room the sounds of tree scraping and glass-ball banging. Yelling the cats name is irrelevant in this situation. The Coon's intelligence kicks in here. He knows if we go in the "room of steam" (bathroom) and close the door for longer than 30 seconds, we will at least be a few minutes.

Those few minutes pass, and I come down the hall. Strangely, no cat is present. Yet the balls on the tree are still swinging. I think he has set up micro surveillance cameras to know exactly where I am.

So begins the WAR!!!
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Step one, cat observes my patterns. He knows if I am looking tired and lay on the couch that only minimal effort will be exerted on my part to shoo him from chewing on the tree. First...a test. A quick bat of an ornament then a short look in my direction. I utter some sort of grunt of disapproval.

"Excellent," Mojo thinks. "The human is too lazy to shoo me." Then comes an unexpected full on assault. (I'm not sure if this is the same category as when he chases invisible things up and down the hall for a half hour at a tie). "I shall CLIMB the tree!!!!"

From my view on the couch I see the tree start shaking like it's on the San Andreas fault. Louder grunts of disapproval do nothing. I sit up...the cat freezes. He's smart enough that he waits...he calls my bluff. Except this time I'm not bluffing. Cat goes running down the hall to plot his next assault.

Except this year I got smart. I have found that cats don't like pepper. Ordinary black pepper from the pepper mill. I just grind a little into 'cat accessible branches', retreat, and watch the results.

It's about a half hour later, and again the cat comes sauntering in acting very nonchalant. He knows my eyes follow his every move, so he just pretends to stare out the window for about 15 minutes. By this time, he figures, the "human" will have forgotten about me. Honestly, I usually do especially if the History channel is on the TV.

Not this time, though. I wait. And wait. Then he goes for it. A quick survey. A branch picked out for chewing. Target locked...must verify by sniffing...and OH MY GOD WHAT THE HELL IS THIS SMELL???

Instant cat-retreat down the hall. Yes, ladies and gentleman, I have introduced biological warfare in the cat vs tree battle! I get a very angry stare from Mojo. He knows that trees shouldn't smell like this. I can see it...he's asking "What is this black magic??"

"Hmm...perhaps a flanking assault will work." The feline sneaks under the couch that I sit on (the tree is right at the other end of it). Silently, he approaches the tree that now has its pepper-shields up at full strength. "There...a branch...I shall sniff it....OH WHAT THE HELL NOT AGAIN!!!"

Now from my vantage point is was rather amusing to watch the couch spit forth a very angry, running cat. Mojo, on the other hand, was not amused. Another battle won! The war continues, however...now that there are presents under the tree the possibilities are endless for Mojo.

Until the next battle...