Nemo's Christmas Eve

Nemo's Christmas Eve

 

Nemo was a cat of very good taste,

At least that’s what he thought when washing his face,

Staring at the tree in the living room corner

Just waiting for attention but nowhere an adorner.

“Ah,” thought Nemo, “but I shall lend a paw!”

And headlong rushed into the mission he saw:

No stopping, no delay, full speed ahead,

Leaping into the branches adrenaline fed!

His eyes were wide open, his nostrils aflame

With pine-scented catnip afloat in his brain:

To the top of the tree, back to the floor,

He raced for the boxes of bulbs by the door.

The glass was so pretty, the string hangers so fine,

But he just couldn’t stop and broke the first nine!

Yet, undaunted he persisted, bent to prevail,

Dragging up two with his teeth and one with his tail.

Now, the plan, if he had one, wasn’t quite fixed,

A little bit sketchy, rambling and mixed,

And when he opened his mouth to lend voice to his head

He dropped the first two and downward they sped.

One bounced off a branch as the other shot by,

Both hitting the floor in the blink of an eye

Causing Nemo to tense and his tail go straight

Which let go the third to a similar fate.

“Oh, well,” thought Nemo, without a tinge of chagrin,

“Those are the breaks, now where shall I begin?”

And with his eyes cast down on the tinsel below

His mind took a leap into deep ice and snow:

One at a time, to the top of the tree,

He’d bring them all up and set them all free.

Thus, he hauled up the tinsel for a great avalanche,

Pulling and pushing from branch to branch,

Getting everything ready at the very tip-top

By chewing open the cellophane nearly non-stop.

He clawed at the strands and pulled with his toes,

Grabbed with his teeth and pushed with his nose

To make a glittering, trembling, ice-mountain of snow

That jiggled and wiggled, all ready to go.

Then, finally, with a yodel, meowed from above,

Nemo leaned into the pile and gave a great shove

Until over it went, down with a plop,

To the very next branch where it came to a stop

Knotted and hooked tight to the tree,

Like a giant beehive that he couldn’t get free!

So, thinking bulbs and tinsel weren’t quite the thing

Nemo turned his attention to the lights on a string:

Red, green and yellow, he tugged on the cord

To untangle the mess and drag it upward

Where he wrapped it around as tight as could be

Before jumping back down when he thought he was free.

But, thinking, of course, can be way overdone,

Especially if your tail is still caught when you run,

And when Nemo flew, the tree did too,

Crashing down in a hullabaloo

That flung needles and tinsel high in the air

To scatter and cover the room everywhere!

Nemo, tossed free, stood in stunned surprise

As tears of splendor came to his eyes:

Such grand design, such a superlative result,

‘Twas the perfect, feline, Christmas gestalt!

Then quick to the kitchen and just as quick back,

He brought a can of his cat food for Santa to snack,

And onto the sofa brushed the needles away

To curl up for a catnap and await Christmas Day.

 

By James N. Zitzelsberger

©2012

All rights reserved.

ge·stalt  A physical, biological, psychological, or symbolic configuration or pattern of elements so unified as a whole that its properties cannot be derived from a simple summation of its parts. (e.g. Nemo)

American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language

4th ed. Houghton Mifflin Company. ©2000