Presents and Pawprints
Every year, it begins with fear as boxes are marched out of the attic and down the stairs. I always hide for this part, preferably under some clothes. It’s easier that way.
When I emerge, it’s up. The tree glitters above me, testing my self-control with glittering balls and jingling bells. I give in easily (self-control is for dogs) and pounce, batting one to the floor and skittering on the tree blanket as I land. To appease the humans despite my sins, I quickly flop on my back and show them my belly. It’s two birds with one swipe; if they try and pet me, I get to play more with their hands as prey!
Over the coming days, I help wrap presents by holding down the paper and supervise the cooking by inspecting the food. I rearrange some items to inform the humans of the dust on the mantle and make sure to take plenty of naps in front of the fire. I start yowling to wake the humans up early so that they are accustomed to it for the Christmas morning rush. What would they do without me?
The night before Christmas, I sleep amongst the presents with excitement in my heart. Tomorrow, there will crumpled paper and boxes and maybe even something for me in my stocking. However, the best part of all is that my humans love tomorrow, and I love their joy.