Unsent Letters #2

Dear Local Panera,

Thank you so much for bringing back the Cranberry Walnut Bagel. I’m not sure when it happened, but I was overjoyed when I stopped in this week and saw it sitting there waiting for me. I’m not sure what transpired behind the scenes…all I know is that one year, it didn’t show up during the Christmas season, and I was told that it was permanently removed from the annual rotation. I grieved the loss of my very favorite bagel. And I tried to move on. But you know, Christmas time at Panera was never the same again.

Until this past Monday, when I saw it there once more. It made my week, and maybe my whole month. You can be sure I’ll be stopping in again soon.

A Cranberry-Walnut-Bagel-with-Honey-Walnut-Cream-Cheese customer whose bagel joy has been restored

tabby cat lying on chair looking at camera

Dear Chester,

Look, I know it’s cold. And I know we’ve set the thermostat so it gets pretty chilly overnight. And I appreciate that you like to cuddle up close to someone to stay warm. But the thing is: I really, really, really don’t like anything touching me when I’m trying to sleep. I like to be snuggled under my flannel sheets and cozy comforter, on my side of the bed, touching nothing else.

When you insist on sleeping as close to me as possible…it causes problems. As in, I can’t sleep. I’m up every 45 minutes trying to rearrange things so that you and I are not coming into contact. But then…sigh…you stand up, stretch, and move in to sleep thisclose to me again. It’s a vicious cycle that only leads to next-day grouchiness and inefficiency on my part.

Here’s a thought. Chad sleeps on the other side of the bed. And he’s been blessed with the ability to both fall asleep immediately and to sleep through almost anything — including a cat sleeping practically on top of him. So why don’t you just scoot over to that side of the bed and keep warm over there? I think that would be super.

Your sleep-deprived food provider

Christmas tree in den behind french doors

Dear Christmas Tree,

I’m really sorry. It’s not that we don’t appreciate you or enjoy your presence in our lives during this time of year. Trust me, if it were possible, we would set you up in the living room, on display for all to see.

We don’t lock you in the den because we want to. We lock you in the den because…well, because cats. They just can’t be trusted. As you may have noticed, when they have access to you, they climb right up to the tippy top of your branches every chance they get. They lie on your branches, causing them to become strangely smashed and skewed. And Charlie — who is clearly lacking in the intelligence department — actually bites off the ends of your lovely artificial limbs. (I seriously don’t know what his problem is.)

So for your own safety, and yes, for our sanity as well, you remain locked in the den, where the cats cannot get to you. Please know that we still enjoy your twinkling lights from our vantage point out in the foyer.

The owner of the very bad cats

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  1. Sometimes I talk to myself. Never to a Christmas tree. I have been known to talk to dogs or cats. Never to Panera. Inanimate; Christmas trees are inanimate. Panera is a corporation-inanimate. Oh-h-h, where did I go wrong?