So, anyway, I got him home (Mr Tree, that is), suggested he slip into something more comfortable, we had a discussion about how much he'd like off the top (I swear EVERY YEAR they grow a foot taller between the Christmas Tree Farm and my lounge), and then I judiciously wielded the lopper.
I gave him a drink. He began to relax. Started to look, oh, you know, a bit Bob Geldorf.
So that's when daughter and I really went to work on him.
And see? They can be taught!