Fun fact: In Icelandic folklore, a person who doesn’t have at least one new item of clothing for Christmas will be taken by a horrible Yule Cat.
Last year, Art and I decided to dress in matching holiday sweaters and, along with our three cats, snap a “family” Christmas picture. Mailing it out as a Christmas card to relatives and friends sounded like fun, especially considering all the kids’ pictures we’ve received over the years. We’d accumulated many cute cards to display along with hideous ones of babies, animals and people. This card, including our feline family, would be payback. It was a good idea, but not so easy to pull off.
Our first challenge was finding two identical holiday sweaters we both liked and would wear while taking our picture. We shopped in the men’s department of a large store for a better selection of colors and patterns, and because Art wouldn’t be caught dead in women’s clothes.
The first sweater to catch my eye was navy blue, trimmed in white, displaying a beautiful wintry snow scene. It was a frontrunner. We continued our search, looking for something more colorful. The next one we liked was a white cable turtleneck sweater. Not colorful at all, but a perfect winter sweater. The final sweater in the running consisted of a red background with two white reindeer on the front, surrounded by a swirling snowflake design. We agreed this was the one.
Now the search for our sizes began. There were many in large sizes, less in medium and very few in small. After looking through hundreds of sweaters, I couldn’t believe we found a small petite in the men’s department for me. “A Christmas miracle!” I shouted loudly. Embarrassed, I hid behind a stack of sweaters.
Next, I stopped at the Dollar Store and picked up three red bows. I planned to tie them around our cats’ necks as bowties. It would be easier than trying to keep small Santa hats on their active heads.
Picture day finally arrived. Art set up his camera and timer in front of our living room couch, while I corralled the three cats into the room. We wore our matching sweaters; the cats wore their red bows. If only it were this simple. Art held Daisy, our youngest striped kitten, on his lap while I held Oliver, a seven-year-old, gray-and-white male, and Ginger, a twenty-four-year-old tuxedo cat.
Daisy was the first cat to get fidgety and run away. While Art was chasing after her, the timing device went off. I was left sitting there with two cats on my lap in a firm grip with a surprised look on my face. Our second attempt was even worse. The camera didn’t work, and when Art left the couch to fix the flash, it went off unexpectedly. This picture showed the tail and rear end of Daisy, and Art’s crotch. Not a great family image for a Christmas card.
In the next shot, Oliver and Daisy had both run off, leaving me with poor old Ginger, who was happy to be sitting on my lap, or any lap, sleeping. By our seventh attempt, we decided to give up on the cats and take only our picture. We were both tired from the constant running back and forth chasing cats and adjusting cameras, and perfectly content sitting back and relaxing on the couch. I’m surprised we didn’t fall asleep like Ginger.
Our final picture turned out well. We shot it holding photographs of our three cats. I was elated just to be smiling and not trying to restrain a runaway cat.
~Irene Maran
