Adventures in owning an idiotic, highstrung pet…

Today was hectic. I’m sure all of you up to your eyeballs in Christmas preparations can understand. After working from 10-5, I came home, took some more cold medication, sneezed, coughed, coughed some more, and blew my nose. After that routine was over, I washed my hands carefully, and proceeded to whip up a batch of shortbread cookies. As usual, about 1/3 of the batch ended up in my stomach, (and yes, I got a stomachache) and 2/3 of the batch were carefully shaped, baked and decorated. 1/2 of the cookies were for tonight’s Christmas Angel party, and the other 1/2 were going to be taken to other gatherings later in the week. Everything went smoothy until after the party was over. My idiotic cat freaked out when I was bringing my Christmas tree back into the house (it had been used to decorate the party room). Just because she doesn’t see shiny, glimmering, decorated trees prancing through the livingroom on a regular basis was no reason for her to hurl herself, in a panic, onto the kitchen table, right smack onto the 2nd plate of cookies. Next thing I know, I’ve got a kitchen floor full of broken, cat-hairy cookies, christmas tree ornaments, and a now-calm purring kitty. Stupid cat.

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