The Cats’ Role At Christmas

There can be no doubt
That our oldest cat, Lilly, the tabby,
Has found a new spot from which
To fret out the many anxieties of her day, the visitor cat chief among them,
A Doubly thin black, a guest while my brother moves.
Twenty-five years ago, my grandmother makes me (and my cousins)
Christmas gift quilts, red and blue bandanas on one side, a nice fabric
Print on the other, ships for the boys (I didn’t notices the girls’).
Barely big enough to cover my dorm room bed,
It works quite well as a Christmas tree skirt and kitty refuge.
It ties together the theme of our tree: things my grandmother, now 90, made for me or gave me.
Of great interest to both Lilly and the visitor are the dangling snowflakes, tightly crocheted from tobacco twine. The visitor sneaks onto the quilt, rolls on her back,
Grabs a snowflake with all four feet.
Lilly is amused by this youthful display,
Sits back to ponder the tabby cat’s role in the Christmas story,
A large tabby climbs into the manger, snuggles and warms the baby Jesus.
The grateful virgin mother ifts the cat, traces an “M” on its forehead with her finger,
A symbol of appreciation tabby cats display even today,
None with more pride than my Lilly-cat,
As she feels less generous with the quilt and makes a quick lunge at Visitor Cat,
Who dashes off to fret her own, growing anxieties in private.
As important as their role was,
Tabby cats aren’t noted for their Christmas spirit.