'Twas the night before Christmas...

...and all through the house, not a creature was stirring except for one naughty ginger cat. Before him stood a huge green tree where shiny items dangled, taunting him. His whiskers twitched and his pupils dilated. Before he knew what he was doing, he reached out a soft nubbin paw to touch a round ruby red globe. In slow motion he saw it fall and break into pieces. The sound it made was like thousands of lids peeling off canned food all at once. This was even more interesting, so the ginger cat walked through the shards of red and silver. The house maid picked him up and checked his feet for injury and then put him down while she cleaned up the sparkling bits of treasure. He then sniffed the bits in amazement and walked through them again, even as the house maid attempted to sweep them up and pushed him away. (The nerve!) After a third trek through the pieces, he lost interest.

With the shiny pieces gone, he walked over to his dent in the couch, exhausted by the last five minutes of exertion. With a few licks to his fur, his tummy exposed to the night air and all four paws up in the air, he dreamed of the worlds softest fleece bed, rooms full of furniture he could scratch and pee on whenever he felt like it and of biting his sister who was sleeping quietly in her carrier.

With a start, the ginger cat woke. He realized a stranger was in the kitchen opening a can of the stinkiest, wet, fishy food. The stranger called to him and waved the can in the air for several minutes, but he only laid there and stared. Though he wanted the food, the naughty ginger cat was still in a coma-like trance, as he had only slept 18 hours that day. With his eyes slowly closing, he heard the red and white clothed human quietly leave the house, whispering (so as to not wake any of the kitties), "Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."