Yesterday they had some people over for holiday festivities. (Ain't no party like a West Coast party.) While Mom did her cookie-pusher thing, Minou and I were forced to walk around in our new collars. He wore the red one and I sported the wreath — a word which, if you subtract one letter, spells WRATH... which was my initial response. At first, I considered making a sign that said down with festive neckwear. But after a cat nap, I decided that the world was full of love and holiday cheer after all. I sauntered through the apartment, demanding snorgles and compliments on my excellent collar. I blame my happy behavior on the spiked cider, whose rum was poured with a heavy hand.