I have been a very good cat this year, if your definition of "very good" is broad enough to include the dismemberment of a rodent or two or maybe a hundred.
Before I get started, though, I want to thank you for the stuffed mouse you brought me last year and I intended to write a thank you note all last year but I was so busy staring into space, licking my paws and napping. I'm sure you can relate: you also don't exactly do a hell of a lot the other 364 days of the year, amirite?
But I digress. The reason I am writing to you now is to let you know that for Christmas this year, I would like to live here without the dog. He needs food and attention all of the time and he is incapable of amusing himself for more than a second. Batting shiny bits of paper around the floor is apparently beneath him. Pouncing on insects bores him. I fear he's dim-witted. So I thought that maybe you could take the shedding drooler with you when you leave. Better than a plate of cookies, don't you think? Well, think about it.
Anyhoo, it has come to my attention that some folks give you a list of things they would like for Christmas, not just one request for a dog-free home. So I would like to provide you with these suggestions to make it easier for you to deliver presents to me that will perk me up after the impending loss of my feeble-minded canine companion:
Empty boxes too small for me to fit into
More laser dots
Indoor trees all year around, not just at Christmas
And last but not least, maybe an aviary?
Well, I think that just about does it for me, for this year, anyway! Merry Christmas, Santa.
With heartfelt feigned sincerity,
P.S. - Don't forget to take the dog on your way out. His name is NoNoStopThat.