Apparently my letter to you last year failed to arrive as you did not grant my Christmas wish. You did not take the evil cat with you after you dropped off the presents.
It occurred to me that maybe you didn’t want to take the cat, given his predilection for doing basically nothing, day after day. I get that. Who wants to put up with that insolence? If that’s the case, I completely understand so I have a few different requests this year.
Please don’t bring any more babies. The one you brought on Christmas last year has grown enormously and has become very loud indeed. He’s attempting to walk on two legs now so there is no safe place in this house for me to take a nap. I basically have to sleep with one eye open so I can move out of the way when the little drooler lurches in my direction, swaying side to side like a drunk with his hands in the air.
But don’t get me wrong. I like the boy, especially when he tries to feed himself. The spaghetti and the cheerios go all over the place and I scarf them up and that is big fun for both of us. So don’t take the kid back. Just the cat.
In case you need further convincing, I want you to know that I have suffered the feline subjugation for many years now and I fear for my sanity. Based on my observations, I am convinced that the cat is a serial killer, of mice and insects and basically anything that moves. He lives to kill. Perhaps the boy is in danger.
“And no more babies, please remember that. One is enough right now.”
I am not asking you for toys or rawhide. I’m not asking for big fat steaks. I’ll even forgo the request for lady dogs to move into the ‘hood. I just want my domain back the way it was before they brought Mr. Meow-Meow home to terrorize us all.
So, Santa, could you please just leave the door open after you leave? Could you do that for me, Santa? I beg of you. However, in the event that you actually enter and leave through the chimney and not the door, I would like to point out that you are exerting way too much energy entering and exiting the premises. If you would prefer, I would be happy to share with you where the secret key is hidden (under the mat) so that you could land the sleigh on the front lawn and come in like a regular burglar and exit through the same door which you can leave ajar so the cat can escape. Deal?
One last thing, Santa. Could you bring some toys for the boy? Maybe a stuffed cat so he won’t miss the real thing after you free the cat from the confines of this home. And no more babies, please remember that. One is enough right now.
Thank you, Santa. I won’t eat your cookies this year, if I can control myself when no one is looking.
Nigel, the dog