Christmas Cats by Shirley Rousseau Murphy

Author:Shirley Rousseau Murphy [Murphy, Shirley Rousseau]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Anthologies, Literature, Cats, Christmas
ISBN: 159609155X
Google: w0h44r4twXAC
Amazon: 159609155X
Goodreads: 342523
Publisher: Chamberlain Bros.
Published: 2005-09-27T04:00:00+00:00

Excerpt from Rest in Pieces

Rita Mae Brown and Sneaky Pie Brown

Christmas Eve morning dawned silver gray.

The snow danced down, covering bushes, buildings, and cars, which were already blurred into soft, fantastic shapes. The radio stations interrupted their broadcasts for weather bulletins and then returned to "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen." A fantastic sense of quiet enshrouded everything.

When Harry turned out Tomahawk and Gin Fizz, the horses stood for a long time, staring at the snowfall. Then old Gin kicked up her heels and romped through the snow like a filly.

Chores followed. Harry picked up Tucker while Mrs. Murphy reclined around her neck. She waded through the snow. A snow shovel leaned against the back porch door. Harry put the animals, protesting, into the house and then turned to the odious task of shoveling. If she waited until the snow stopped she'd heave twice as much snow. Better to shovel at intervals than to tackle it later, because the weather report promised another two feet. The path to the barn seemed a mile long. In actuality it was about one hundred yards.

"Let me out. Let me out," Tucker yapped.

Mrs. Murphy sat in the kitchen window. "Come on, Mom, we can take the cold."

Harry relented and they scampered out onto the path she had cleared. When they tried to go beyond that, the results were comical. Mrs. Murphy would sink in way over her depth and then leap up and forward with a little cap of snow on her striped head. Tucker charged ahead like a snowplow. She soon tired of that and decided to stay behind Harry. The snow, shoveled and packed, crunched under her pads.

Mrs. Murphy, shooting upward, called out, "Wiener, wiener! Tucker is a wiener!"

"You thinkjou're so hot," Tucker grumbled.

Now the tiger cat turned somersaults, throwing up clots of snow. She'd bat at the little balls, then chase them.

Leaping upward, she tossed them up between her paws. Her energy fatigued Tucker while making Harry laugh.

"Yahoo!" Mrs. Murphy called out, the sheer joy of the moment intoxicating.

"Miss Puss, you ought to be in the circus." Harry threw a little snowball up in the air for her to catch.

"Yeah, the freak show," Tucker growled. She hated to be outdone.

Simon appeared, peeping under the barn door. "You all are noisy today."

Harry, bent over her shovel, did not yet notice the bright eyes and the pink nose sticking out from under the door. As it was, she was only halfway to her goal, and the snow was getting heavier and heavier.

"No work today." Mrs. Murphy landed head-deep in the snow after another gravity-defying leap.

"Think Harry will make Christmas cookies or pour syrup in the snow?" Simon wondered. "Mrs. MacGregor was the best about the syrup,you know."

"Don't count on it," Tucker yelled from behind Harry, "but she gotjou a Christmas present. Bet she brings it out tomorrow morning, along with the presents for the horses."

"Those horses are so stupid. Think they'll even notice?" Simon criticized the grazing animals. He nourished similar prejudices against cattle and sheep.

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