“This is my ‘I am the gift’ face.” #CatChristmas #FelineFestive
Under the shimmering Christmas tree, nestled between tastefully wrapped gifts, sat Mr. Whiskers, the most regal of cats. His luxuriously fluffy fur seemed almost to mingle with the ornaments, as his striking blue eyes roved over the boxes, each adorned with ribbons and bows.
Everyone knew Mr. Whiskers liked high places and comfy spots, and this year, the tree base had become his favorite perch. It was as though he believed the presents were his throne, and he was there to supervise.
Madison discovered him one snowy morning when she went to add another gift to the pile. There he was, with a look that clearly said, “I’m the highlight of this celebration.” Amused, she left a tickler ball among the presents, which Mr. Whiskers accepted as his rightful tribute.
The family had to be careful when reaching under the tree. His Highness had made it clear that they needed permission to approach. But no one seemed to mind; his presence under the tree added warmth and charm, a reminder that sometimes the best gifts are those without wrapping paper.
Thus, Mr. Whiskers became the unofficial guardian of the Christmas tree, ensuring that the celebrations at the Hartman household were purrrfectly delightful.
