The past few years, we've ended up with Christmas Cats. Either shortly before or shortly after Christmas, somebody in our apartment complex would dump kittens, seemingly on the coldest night of the year.

The feral cat population in Columbus is huge; the no-kill shelters are often completely full, and their overflow goes to the killin' shelters.

braunbeck and I lack the gene for sending kittens off to get killed at Christmas. So now we have 5 cats.

I am hopeful that there shall be no more Christmas cats; we're in a new neighborhood of houses with families. The kitties I see in yards are all collared and well-groomed, and the only "strays" we feed now are the family of bunnies that live under our deck.

Last year, our Christmas Kitten was starving, frightened and sick. She hid for two weeks behind the furnace. Now she's all grown up, strong and healthy and the first to greet new visitors.

But she has a few issues.

(Sung to the tune of "Windy" by The Association)

Who's nibbling on the tips of my fingers
Who's drooling on the side of my face
Who's got her claws dug into my flesh now
Everyone knows it's kitty

Who's leaping to the top of my dresser
Knocking everything to the floor
Who's horking hairballs on my good sheets now?
Everyone knows it's kitty

And kitty has yellow eyes
That flash when she hears houseflies
And kitty's breath makes me cry,
"Oh God, what died? (Oh God, what died?)
Dear God, what diiiiieeeed?"

Who's curling up on my pillow so cutely
Who's got a purr that's louder than love
Who's rubbing up against me all sweetly
Everyone knows it's kitty

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