Members
Change Profile
Discussion
Topics
Last Day
Last Week
Tree View
Search Board
Keyword Search
By Date
Utilities
Contact
Administration
Documentation
Getting Started
Formatting
Troubleshooting
Program Credits
Coupons
Best Coupons
Freebie Newsletter!
Coupons & Free Stuff
|
Moms View Message Board: Short Stories, Poetry and Articles : The Purr-fect Gift
 Once he was midnight black with topaz eyes. Now his coat sported flecks of gray and his eyes, once so intense, were dull. He was old. He no longer romped, chasing bright foil balls as he had loved to do for so many years. In fact, lately he seemed to have no energy at all. Just last week "his Mom", concerned about his listlessness, had decided to have him checked by the vet. This was a journey that he usually fought, but this time he submitted without much of a battle. After all the poking and prodding the vet talked with Mom for a long time. On the ride home she was quiet and remote. His family acted strange after that day. They were always petting him, telling him how much they loved him and what a good cat he was. Normally he would have preened at all this attention, but now it was hard to care. His favorite place to nap this time of year was under the Christmas tree on the red tree skirt. He loved the feel of the soft velvet and the pungent odor of the tree above him. He often would dream there of sleeping in the wild with the winter stars twinkling overhead. The fresh pine scent would make his nose twitch as he dozed. Normally on Christmas Eve he lost his favorite spot as the family filled this space with boxes and toys. This year, for some strange reason, they piled the gifts on the side and left him his cozy hideaway beneath the tree. He slumbered straight through the frantic Christmas Eve preparations and awoke very late when the house was dark and quiet. The only light in the room came from an object on the table beside the sofa. It looked different from the usual lamp light and his curiosity piqued, he decided to investigate. From the sofa he could see that it was a little house with tiny figures. They were wearing dresses, blankets and strange things on their heads, but he recognized a lady, like his Mom, a man, like his Dad, some boys with curly fat dog-type creatures and a box that held a baby. He remembered what babies were. His own two boys were babies once. They had pulled his tail, poked at his eyes and grabbed his whiskers. Despite all of that he loved them and would protect them like a tiger if he thought they were threatened. They had made balls of aluminum foil and he would bat and frolic with those balls as the little ones giggled with delight. He then noticed that this baby looked very sad. The bigger people around him had concerned expressions on their faces. Was the child in danger? His back bristled and his tail gave a warning swish as he quickly checked the room for any intruder. All seemed secure, but the baby's grave face troubled him. Why was he so sad? He had an idea. Hopping down from the sofa, he squirmed under it and found an old foil ball left unwanted and forgotten for a long time. He carried it to the other side of the table. Just retrieving the ball had him gasping, but the baby looked so sad that he just had to carry on. After a few tentative bats he looked up. No change. He'd have to try harder. He tossed the ball into the air. It rolled under a table. He scrambled after it and lobbed it back to the rug. With a real effort he again flipped it into the air, flipping himself with the ball. Panting now he glanced up. Yes there was a definite grin. He continued his antics and was rewarded by an ongoing giggle. At the end of his strength he crawled back onto the sofa. Wearily, he stood before the child and family. Smiles lit the many faces and he felt so proud. He'd worked so hard and had done his best but now he was so very tired. He crept off the sofa and under the tree. After three weary turns he curled himself into a ball and slept. He opened one eye as the family filtered in the next morning, and both eyes as they lit the tree and reached for their gifts. His ears perked as they laughed and commented on the contents of the boxes they unwrapped. A ribbon was removed. A piece of foil wrapping paper was wadded into a ball and tossed aside. He felt different, hungry, spry and happy. A purr started in his throat and traveled clear down to his tail. Suddenly from under the tree he leapt, pouncing on the foil discards. He ferociously scattered them while the family stared amazed. After tearing up most of the wrap and ribbon, he departed the room tail high, to check out his food bowl. He licked the bowl clean and returned to the living room. Hopping up on the sofa he looked closely at the baby. The smile was still there. This time he fought with his old vigor against the trip to the vet. Again the vet had a long talk with his Mom, but this time on the ride home she was humming "Jingle Bells". He entertained the baby for the full time that he visited there at the house and had lots of energy left during the day to go out and show the cat next door who was still boss. For that year and for many more Christmas seasons, instead of his old haunt under the tree, he could always be found napping on the sofa curled next to the table that held the manger scene. B. V. Dahlen ©
Sweet story.
|