‘Twas the night before Christmas, at Carrot’s clinic house.
Every creature was purring, it was not safe for a mouse.
Knit stockings were hung by the exam room with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

Carrots was nestled all snug in his bed,
While visions of parakeets perched in his head;
And the Vet in her chair with files in her lap,
Had just settled her brain for a long winter’s nap,
When in the next room there arose such a clatter,
She sprang from the chair to see what was the matter.

Away to the lab she flew like a flash,
Where Carrots was pursuing a mouse in the trash.
She picked up the mess. “Oh, that mouse has to go!”
But first, she would pour a tall glass of Purr-lot.

Then what to her wondering eyes should appear,
But Carrot’s running quickly in high gear,
And a little grey mouse so lively and quick,
He could turn on a dime though the floor was quite slick.

She giggled a bit, and then she pardoned herself,
And she reached for some catnip she kept on the shelf.
A wink of her eye to a peering grey head,
Let the little mouse know he had nothing to dread.
Dr. sprinkled the catnip, it went straight to work,
Carrot pulled in his claws, and he started to smirk.

The effect of that stuff on a kitty cat’s nose,
Is the same as a couple Purr-lots, I suppose.
She went back to her chair, to Carrot’s gave a whistle,
And he climbed upon her, like the down on a thistle,
And I heard her exclaim, as she sank out of sight…
Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

A rendering of the original poem by Randal Johnson (1959) Tacoma, Washington, U.S.A.

Written by Breah Russell, CCR