“The winged thing at the top looks delicious, Hoomin!”
“Gettin’ up was easy; gettin’ down? Hmm…..”
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Hey , pas de probleme! You just wait till the tree is leaning over at the optimum angle for your particular size, weight and escape trajectory, and let go in a graceful arc. The tinkling, shattering, sliding CRASHHH at the end just adds drama to the performance.
I know all this due to having been wakened in exactly this way at 7 am after a tree-trimming party. The perp, a recent adoptee, about 5 months old and half the size of the kitteh in the pic, stared at me with big round eyes from under a coffee table.
“My Everest”, Fluffy purred, breathlessly.
The cat we took in a couple of months ago has no interest in the ceramic tree Mom made in 1970. Maybe because she hasn’t noticed it. Yet.
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