Oh. Christmas Tree.

 

One of my favourite things about Christmas is the Christmas Tree. I love the pine smell, the decorations, the lights and the whole romantic starry glow of the things. For years and years, a real tree was the only option. We’d make an afternoon of going to choose our tree, a sort of Christmas tradition. But three years ago, we ended up buying a very realistic artificial one because, I seem to remember, the whole clearing up of fallen pine needles was becoming a bit of an irritating faff. 

Also, when one has pets, an artificial tree is a safer option. Real pine needles getting stuck in kitty paws and throats is something to be avoided.

Kittens love Christmas trees, and over the years my experience of cats + trees = they’ll climb them and play with the baubles but soon get bored and eventually grow out of showing too much interest. We’ve never had a Christmas tree totally decimated by cats. I seem to remember one year Tybalt bringing one crashing to floor but it was only once. Bambino showed interest in the Christmas tree in the first year but his interest declined over the ensuing two years and last year he would occasionally give the tree a casual bat with his paw in passing but nothing that caused my blood pressure to rocket unduly. He rather enjoyed sitting underneath it but that’s because the tree skirt is especially lush and comfy.

However…

…this year we have the unknown Christmas tree quantity in the shape of Nellibobs Cockapoo. 

By Christmas, Nell will be a whole year old. An adult dog. No longer a puppy dog. And adults, generally speaking, do not go around wrecking Christmas trees. However, I am already experiencing a sense of impending doom about installing the tree in its usual setting which is in the corner between the sofa and the living room door. I just know she won’t be able to leave it alone and within hours, if not minutes, I shall want to take her to the nearest market place and sell her for five magic beans. Or just beans. 

‘You don’t know that for sure,’ said Lord Malarkey. ‘How about we put the tree up but don’t decorate it. See how she reacts to it and go from there?’

Well, it’s a good thought. In fact, I thought perhaps I should put the tree up earlier than usual, sort of introduce it, all casual-like, in the manner of, ‘Hey! It’s just a tree. Nothing to see here. Nothing to do.’ And then add the decorations, ninja-style, so she barely notices a fully decorated lights ‘n’ baubles extravaganza come a week before Christmas which is about the time I usually set up the tree anyway. 

My other thought was ‘Let’s not bother with a tree this year, because I really don’t know if I can be arsed with the palaver.’

But I love Christmas trees! If we don’t have one this year, it will be the first time in my LIFE that I’ll experience a Christmas sans tree. And that thought makes me feel very sad. It’s been a rubbish enough year as it is, without finishing it without a tree. 

Therefore, this weekend  I’ve started giving the whole tree conundrum some serious thought. It’s because I’ve been gardening for most of the afternoon and eyeing up all the holly and ivy I’m going to use for making wreaths and decorating the pictures and fireplace beam with. 

I think I shall set up our usual tree and see how Nell responds. At least, being a lady dog, she won’t cock her leg against it. But I also think I have a cunning alternative plan forming in my cunning alternative mind. It might be time to trigger a change - in more ways than one.