Here’s something way, way, way off the normal course of offerings from me to you here in the Pets Blog. My attempt at paying homage to a classic holiday poem, “The Night Before Christmas” by Clement C. Moore –but with a twist. And it stars my three little monkeys: Murphy, Mr. Meow and Tabby. (Along with some seasonally appropriate Halloween cohorts, of course.)
I’ll warn you now I’m no poet. Most of the rhyming is a stretch, the meter’s off, and who knows if any of it makes any sense, but this is what taking a nap the day before Halloween, and being roused by three cold, hungry noses at dusk, did to me.
(There’s a lesson in there for all of you nappers out there. Especially if you have cats. I think mine did something to me while I slept. Maybe put catnip in Murph’s cast and he stuck his foot up to my nose while I was blissfully trekking around dreamland. I wouldn’t put it past them.)
At any rate, enjoy the “poem” (being generous calling it that). And Happy All Hallows Eve!
‘Twas the night before Halloween,
All Hallows Eve,
And not a creature was stirring in the Haunted House,
Not even the ghost of a mouse.
With Wayne in his tidy whities and me in my nightie,
We tried and tried
Not to let their snoring and bed hogging ways
Leave us flustered and fried.
But when all of a sudden explosions were heard,
We bolted from bed
Like a flock of birds.
Murphy growled and barked while
Wayne flicked on the lights.
The cats stood back watching it all
Trying to make sense of our plight.
It didn’t take us long
To discern the cause of the ruckus.
Down in the kitchen
The witches were being rambunctious.
Seems they let loose the bats in the belfry
Who had joined the ghosts flying about,
Which caused the skeletons
To jump and scream and shout.
“Please keep it down, we’re trying to sleep,”
“Forgive us. Beg our pardon.
A special ingredient we needed.”
Hearing concoctions were being made,
Murphy danced at their heels
Eagerly awaiting the dropping
From any kind of meals.
Realizing treats might be had for the taking
The cats joined Murph in beggin’
For whatever morsels the witches
Might decide to start tradin’.
“So sorry you three, there’s nothing left.
That pumpkin over there devoured it all.”
What sad sorry eyes, completely bereft!
“Away, let’s go, back up to bed.
Tomorrow you’ll get plenty fed.”
Follow me they did,
And back to sleep we went.
But not the poor pumpkin.
He was totally spent!