Dear Edmund and Tenzing—

I know that you can’t read, so I am trusting that you will use your superkitty powers to absorb the contents of this letter through your amazing (and easily-demonstrated) mindlink powers with Amy. Since the two of you always seem to know each other’s thoughts, I’m going to assume that now would be no exception and just send this letter to her.

With that in mind, I would like to make a small, tiny request: please stop chewing on Amy’s Christmas tree. I know it’s yummy and green and plastic-y, and it’s so tempting that you can barely resist its delectable temptations. That doesn’t even begin to take into account the smooth, electricity-warmed feel of taking a twinkling lightbulb in your mouth (not to mention that your brother always thinks it’s cool to watch your mouth light up from the inside) or the satisfying crunch you get from sinking your little kitty teeth into one of her ornaments.

No, I ask you this not because I want to remove pleasure and joy from your life, but for a simple reason: I love you, and I love the fact that you consider Amy the center of your world, but Amy hates cleaning up cat vomit, especially when she finds that it’s been liberally sprinkled with once-chewed Christmas tree needles.

Santa will give you lots and lots of catnip next year if you’ll kick your Christmas tree habit. Not to mention that Santa will make sure that you, Tenzing, get danced around the living room as much as Amy can stand it. For you, Edmund, I’ll make your mommycat grow more catnip, because she and I both know how much you like it.

In the meantime, have a jolly Christmas. Edmund—keep up the weight gain—another year of such a stellar performance and you can come be my Santa-cat at any time.

Catnip, belly scritchies, and warm blankets for all—

Santa