With apologies to Clement Clarke Moore
‘Twas the day before Christmas, as I readied for work
Our black-and-white Hannah was acting a jerk
Biting into Bette’s neck with her jaws of cat-steel
Her eyes all a-twinkle with naughtiness and zeal.
The joke was on Hannah as Bette only purred
And Hannah’s mouth filled with Bette’s shiny black fur
I turned to jump in but laughed at the scene
And Hannah turned ‘round and said I was mean.
When down in the kitchen arose such a clatter,
My husband was working on our Christmas Eve platter
Away to the stairs, I carefully descended
(I need to go slow or may be upended).
Hannah wove through my feet, as she so-often does
As I slipped on her tail and an accumulation of fuzz
You’ll think I’m dramatic, you’ll think I digress
Please listen, it’s truth (at least, more or less!)
“Now, Hannah, Now Missy, Now Tessy and Bette!
And the cats that we’ve loved and haven’t yet met
To the top of the stairs! Under feet, one and all
Now meow all day! Play all day! Sleep all day, all!”
With round little cheeks and saucer-like eyes
That see to your soul and harbor no guise
You get what you get, that much is true,
When you live with a cat, or four, maybe two.
Best wishes to all from the Whisperer’s homestead
Warm wishes, and catnip, and sleeps in warm beds
One last thing as I log off for now
HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO ALL, AND MEOW, MEOW, MEOW!