it's Christmas, and those Monkeys have stuck me in a cage at a boarding facility with nothing but my shearling mouse and my skeepskin (yes, it's real) bed for company... so I've got plenty of time to think about how unfair the world is, and how mad I am at those monkeys...
But actually?
I'm not even mad right now. Maybe it's because I've had so much time to think (which I don't usually even do), but I'm just feeling grateful for all the good things I've got going on. Last year at this time (don't tell anyone!) I was on the streets (or in a shelter, I don't remember which) where all the other kitties made fun of me for my weird paws.
But now?
My unique qualities have been recognized and appreciated! I have everything I want, and I'm warm and dry and well-fed. I've got a car, and jewelry, and shoes and handbags and I get gourmet meals and my agent says I'll have a record deal soon. So, even if I'm at "kitty spa" for Christmas?
Life could be worse.
I just don't know how those monkeys can stand to spend this special day without me!
But for now, for Christmas, I wanna share a carol I really like. I know it's actually sung by field mice - and I'd usually rather eat them than listen to them - but in the spirit of Christmas I'd welcome them to sit next to me at the table of brotherhood... rather than, you know, in front of me at the table of gratin des souriceaux.
The Carol of the Field Mice:
Villagers all this frosty tide
Let your doors be open wide
Though wind may follow, and snow beside
Yet draw us in by your fire to bide
Joy shall be yours in the morning!
Here we stand in the cold and the sleet
Blowing fingers and stamping our feet
We come from far away you to greet
You by the fire and we in the street
Bidding you joy in the morning!
For ere one half of the night was gone
Sudden a star has led us on
Raining bliss and benison
Bliss tomorrow and more anon
Joy for every morning!
Goodman Joseph toiled through the snow
Saw the star oe’r stable low
Mary she might not further go
Welcome thatch and litter below
Joy was hers in the morning!
And they heard the angels tell
Who were the first to cry Nowell?
Animals all, as it befell
In the stable where they did dwell
Joy shall be theirs in the morning!
Merry Christmas!
No comments:
Post a Comment