by Jerrie Wolfe
Dear Santa… I’ve been a good kitty mom all year. I’ve fed, cleaned and cuddled my cats on demand, visited the Vet’s office more than my own doctor, spent more on their shampoos and conditioners than I do for myself, and most of the time they are groomed better than I am!
I was hoping you could spread my list out over several Christmases, since I had to write this letter with my black marker pen on the back of a cat food receipt in the laundry room between cycles of cat bedding, and who knows when I’ll find anymore free time in the near future with kittens coming and cat shows on the horizon.
Here are my Christmas wishes:
I’d like a pair of legs that don’t ache (in any color, except purple, which I already have) and arms that don’t hurt or flap in the breeze; but are strong enough to put my struggling cat into the tub for a bath.
I’d also like a waist, since I lost mine somewhere eating cat show food and at least three show outfits and some jeans that will zip all the way up without the use of power tools.
If you’re hauling big-ticket items this year I’d like nose print resistant windows, floors and litter boxes that clean themselves, and a refrigerator with a secret compartment behind the crisper where I can hide to eat my own snacks without having to share with a pack of meowing maniacs.
On the practical side, I could use a battery operated cat that is always behave perfectly and plays with the judges’ toys to boost my showing confidence, along with at least two queens who don’t bump each other to start a fight.
I could also use a recording of The Cat Whisperer chanting “Don’t pee on that plastic bag” and “Get off the counter” because my voice seems to be just out of my cat’s hearing range and can only be heard by the next door neighbors who are at least an acre away.
If it’s too late to find any of these things, I’d settle for enough time to brush my teeth and comb my hair in the same morning, or the luxury of eating food warmer than room temperature without it being served in a Styrofoam container at a cat show.
If you don’t mind, I could also use a few Christmas miracles to brighten the holiday season. Would it be too much trouble to declare a kitty lock down session? It will clear my conscience immensely when I look at those miserable little faces.
It would be helpful if you could coerce my husband and children to help around the house without demanding payment as if they were the bosses of an organized crime family because after all, this is for MY cats!
Well, Santa, the buzzer on the dryer is ringing and some of my cats saw my feet under the laundry room door. They think I am eating dinner in here again and they are missing out on leftovers.
Have a safe trip and remember to leave your wet boots by the door and look down so that you don’t step into an “accident”.
I would have left cookies, but between the cats and the dog, there is no chance that anything other than cat hair will be left on the plate. I left you a Hot Toddy to warm you from the cold, but after a day like this, I drank it myself.