...Except for the Cat

Note: Today’s the last day to enter our Super Secret Santa Give-Away! Click here to learn how. The draw will be made late this afternoon, and Gail Fuller will announce the winner tomorrow.

Good luck to all who entered, and Merry Christmas!

And now for my post!

Anyone else decorate for Christmas with pets in mind? You know, no tinsel this year, because the kitten might eat it. Tie that tree to the rafters so the Saint Bernard’s tail doesn’t whack it to the ground!

Our pets are usually pretty good around Christmas. Our current cat, Keisha, a spirited tortoiseshell, uses the tree watering system as her personal water bowl just like her Siamese predecessor did, but so far she hasn’t knocked down the tree. The Christmas I was five, though, I remember waking up to a crash in the middle of the night a few days before Christmas (I can pinpoint my age because we only lived in the house in question for one Christmas). The tree my mother had so carefully decorated had come whipping down…courtesy of the cat. As an adult I’ve lived in fear of this happening again, but so far it hasn’t. That doesn’t stop me from imagining the possibilities, though.

And so, in memory of my old Siamese cat, Seiki, and with apologies to the descendants of Clement Clarke Moore, I offer my version of ‘Twas The Night Before Christmas:

…EXCEPT FOR THE CAT
by Cindy Procter-King

Was midnight before Christmas, when all through our shack
Not a creature was stirring…except for the cat.
The stockings were strung twenty feet in the air,
In vain hopes that The Fanged One wouldn’t discover them there.

The kidlets were snoozing all tucked in their beds,
While plans for stealing catnip danced in the fuzzy beast’s head.
And DH in his sweatpants, and I with the dog in my lap,
Had just flopped into bed after imbibing enough eggnog to induce a 12-hour nap.

When from the living room below there arose such a crash,
I flew out of bed and down the stairs like The Flash.
Tore around the corner and tripped over the Yule log,
Righted myself, but nearly threw up my eggnog.

For the tree I had so lovingly sprayed with canned snow
Now lay on the ground, broken ornaments strewn to and fro.
When, what to my widening eyes should appear,
But a miniature tiger, and eight alley cats to fear!

Our cat was their leader, so clever and quick,
I realized then he was up to his old tricks.
More rapid than mice, his feline minions they came,
While I screamed up the stairs to DH with no shame,

“The cat door! It you forgot to close!
Now every cat in the neighborhood is upon us!
They’re scratching the furniture! They’re climbing the walls!
How will we ever get rid of them all?”

DH made no sound; he was still up in bed,
Having drunk enough eggnog that he lay as if dead.
So, left alone with the wily beasts, I knew,
I had to save the Christmas tree—and all the toys, too.

And then, ears a-breaking, I heard the cats howl
As they pummeled the lights and the gifts while they scowled.
I swung my hands wildly and screeched just as loud,
“Get out of my house! Get away, get away, get away NOW!”

My cat arched his spine, from his head to his tail,
His fur was all matted with tinsel and hail.
His gift of catnip he had flung from the tree,
And he looked like a wild animal, eyes glittering with glee.

His nose—how it twitched! His cat cheeks, how hairy!
His jaw—how it gaped, his mouth red like a berry!
His sharp teeth were flashing like Wolverine’s claws,
The sight of which would give anyone pause.

A branch of the tree he now gripped in his teeth,
And of course he’d destroyed my new Christmas wreath!
He had a fat face and a full-of-food belly,
That swung as he yowled at me like I was his lackey!

He was high-strung and arrogant, a right nasty Siamese.
But I laughed as I gazed at him, to keep him well-pleased.
As he strutted toward me, his meows rang through my head,
Which quickly gave me to know that I had much to dread.

He hissed to his underlings, “Out of the house now!
My human will clean this mess, and no one will know!”
Then, sticking his tail straight up to space,
And giving a wail, to the warm bed he raced!

I know I’m his slave, so I sprang into action,
While away tore his minions before I could catch them.
As I heard him purring upstairs while DH snored with delight,
I thought, “Happy Christmas to all—no thanks to the cat, because I’ll be up all night!”

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