I tend to skim the various 'spoil your cats' sites in the week or so after Christmas, looking for deals and discounts. My cats really don't care if I'm paying full price for their crinkly mice, they just want the crinkly mice, dammit. Being sensible about my purchases allows me to buy them a lot more crinkly mice, and buy myself more uninterrupted writing at the same time. Everybody wins.
I wound up on the Armarkat website -- makers of excellent modular cat furniture, which I have purchased in the past, and which has met with enthusiastic feline approval -- and discovered that one of their smaller-base four-level trees was on deep, deep discount, due to people not really liking the color, which they described as 'red-orange.' I promptly had my housemate measure the available floor space in my room, declared it good, and ordered the cat tree. It arrived on Thursday; yesterday night, my mother came over to help me assemble it.
They lied about the color. It's not 'red-orange.' Certain citrus fruits are red-orange. Some birds are red-orange. This? This is not red-orange. This is a color never found in nature -- in fact, this is a color rarely found outside of Henson Studios, which makes sense, given that the surfaces not wrapped in scratching-post cord are upholstered in what feels for all the world like dead Muppet.
This thing is pumpkin-fucker orange. It's virulent. And impressive.
The cats are ecstatic. Nyssa has been in and out of the house on the second level all morning, while Lilly sits serenely on the post at level three -- low enough to box Nyssa's ears, high enough to be the highest cat -- and radiates Siamese, if you please. Best of all, they've been leaving me almost entirely alone.
Pumpkin-fucker orange: when you absolutely, positively need to be certain that nobody's ever going to break into your house and steal your cat tree.
ETA: Whoops, some birds flew by, and now Lilly's on the top level, chittering like mad. This thing is like kitty cable in HD.