Out in back of the house, in the sparsely lit snowy alley there was a gathering of sorts, a gathering of the feline persuasion. Many had gathered to hear about the latest exploits of Puddles the cat.
“So you see boys, I was upstairs in the Mrs.’s bedroom. I was minding my own business when all of a sudden I couldn’t resist the call of those pretty parcels, and let me tell you, those baskets made some noise...” Puddles shifted on the garbage can and began telling the story again.
“All that shiny paper holding in all those goodies. Those goodies not only could I smell, but when I came upon that transparent paper and actually saw the booty, whooeee...what else can I say? I just couldn’t help myself. You know how it is right? Like when they leave the meat defrosting on the counter, or better yet they leave the turkey cooling in the kitchen before they cut it up. You’re sitting on the warm linoleum giving the soulful eyes, to no avail. What else is a cat to do? Year after year it’s the same holiday torture show.”
“But Puddles, they always cook up the gizzards for us, and if we are really good we get gravy too.”
“Hello? Who said that? You down in front?” Puddles pointed a fury paw to the tabby in the third row. Heads turned. “Boy...are you new? Have you been listening to me? Don’t you see the plight I am explaining to you? Who brought this kid? Ya, I know, no one is gonna fess up to that one. Where was I? Oh yeah, so I ask you what is a cat to do? Here is the opportunity of a life time, am I wrong? You’re all looking at me as though I am floating three feet above you ... would you have passed up the booty in those baskets? I don’t think so ... and if you did you’re a traitor to the feline fur coat! Need I go on? All right then, let me tell you how it was. Okay, I am perched upon the bed right, and I have one hell of a view of the cheese. Yes, you heard me right there was cheese and Damn if it didn’t taste good. Before I knew it I was in there like a shot ... I clawed my way through that red cellophane paper and I was seeing through rose colored glasses let---me---tell---you!! Somehow, it all made sense. All those years of holiday torture, wrapped up in that one moment...it was like irony...What? Okay, what fool piped up with ebony? I said IRONY not IVORY!! I heard that. You might think I don’t know who you are, but I’ll be dealing with you after. Don’t kid yourself, Ebony my Wiskas...”