Christmas Licorice

One day in November, at our weekly Pancake Breakfast, I said "I want a kitten for Christmas".  It just seemed the right time to get a kitten.  We no longer had the care of Cheer Bear, who was my daughter's cat. We are no longer responsible for little kids.  In fact, we actually enjoy the 'long winter's evenings', but it can be quite quiet.  And it's been a long time since we had any cats. 

Our best cat was Burger, who was what I called a "man's cat".  He didn't like to cuddle but he would come and sit with you on his own terms.  He had a crooked tail, which he would swish at you when you got after him for getting into something he shouldn't be in.  He was incredibly smart, and fast and caught many a mouse for us.  My husband, upon hearing a mouse, would go get Burger and put him in the offending cupboard, and within several seconds, Burger would catch the mouse and dispose of it quite happily for us. Burger also liked to watch me gardening.  He would come and find me and lie down and supervise the job.
Sadly, Burger disappeared when we were about to move from the farm.  One day, he just never showed up. And I always felt badly that I never knew what happened to him.

It turns out that my husband heard my comment about my Christmas wish, loud and clear.  He began secret negotiations with my daughter to find a kitten for me for Christmas.  I must admit, I got a few inklings about it.   One of them was the day before Christmas when he wanted to go to PetsMart.  I don't like PetsMart.  I think it showcases the incredibly silly things that people buy for their pets at great [and needless] cost to themselves.  Things like foot paste for cats.  And sweaters.  And dog bones the size of a small dinosaur.  So I made him go by himself to PetsMart that day, muttering to myself that really, I was so hungry, how could he think of asking me to go to that store when we'd been out Christmas shopping all day already .

On Christmas day, the last present was for me.  It was a box with two holes in the wrapping paper.  There was no meowing, but I guessed.  Is it ....?????   And sure enough, there was a kitten there for me.  He has the same colouring as Burger.  He has a very similar temperament.  He likes to come to you on his own terms.  But when he does, the purring makes all your troubles disappear in a happy furball of contentment.  I named him Licorice.  But mostly I just call him Puss.

And I am afraid that I have become 'one of those people'.  Texting pictures to friends about Licorice's cuteness.

Just so cute.  Super cute!

Henrik meets his new 'buddy'

Asleep on my arm.  So content.  Too bad you can't hear the purring

And taking videos of him warning the birds that he's coming for them.

(which I tried to upload here, but it didn't work.  say goodbye to those two hours of my life)

He amuses us every night with his chasing his tail, and doing somersaults and jumping from one piece of furniture to another, and attacking our toes as we get ready for bed.  He even sleeps at the bottom of the bed on my husband's side.  

Yep, it's true.  I LOVE my Christmas Licorice.