Kitty Barf: Have A Very Kitty Christmas

T’was the night before Christmas and all through the house, 
Kitty was barfin’, it barfed on the couch.

The stockings were hung from the chimney with care, 
With hopes that Kitty could not barf in them there.

But Kitty is crafty, and Kitty can jump,
In Jennifer Lancaster’s stocking, Kitty took a dump. 

All of the sudden, there arose such a clatter, 
I stopped strangling Kitty, to tend to the matter.

Then with a puff, and a jolly “ho ho,”
Saint Nick appeared and gave me a “no.”

“No ho’s here,” I said, “we are good Republicans,”
But Santa just looked at me, like I hadn’t said nothin’.

Back to the cat, I went for its throat,
But Santa was mad as that got his goat.

Santa said, “cats are sweet and precious,”
I said “in Ohio, Haitians can grill them delicious.” 

“Be nice to the cat,” Santa said as he grabbed a stick, 
“Sure” I replied, “I’ll finish him nice and quick.” 

Santa retorted “not what I mean, and that’s a real fact,”
I said, “since you like him so much, here take him—free cat.”

Santa said “taking a cat to the North Pole is a real problem” 
I replied “yeah, your indentured elves are something that needs solvin’.”

“That’s it, I’ve had enough,” the old man bellowed haughty,
“Just for that, your name goes on the list of the naughty.”

The bumbling gift giver with Sainthood self-serving,
Took toys from his bag for the kids so deserving.

As he turned to leave, I put the cat in his sack. 
Up the chimney he went, without looking back. 

And when he was gone, with relief I did weep, 
Until in my stocking, I found Kitty there asleep.