Katie Malone's Cat Moe

‘Twas the Night Before Christmas Vancouver Edition

’Twas the night before Van-mas, when all through the home,

Not a creature was stirring, except Moe Malone

No stockings were hung, we didn’t give a care

The apartment was cluttered with a tactical flare

The millennials were nestled in apartments around

Lucky to have, a home above ground

And Katie in her pjs and I in my sweats

Nestled into our beds, thinking of our cute pets

When out on the street, arose such a noise

“Shut your faces!” I yelled, at those hooligans boys

Back to the sofa-bed, I crawled,

Where the best cozy blanket was haphazardly balled

The florescent street light lit up the bookstore

The noise of East Van, like an urban sea-shore

When what to my wondering eyes should roam in,

But a furry white cat with an unimpressed grin.

Moe the cat

Moe the cat and I, had very little affection

He never bothered to even nod in my direction

As I lie unimpressed, which changed into dismay

Moe walked directly towards my way

“Now Jessie,” he purred, “Now Jessie I tell you,

I didn’t like you at all, from the first time that I smelled you.”

To my lap he then jumped, to the top of my chest

And then what he told me, was certainly the best:

“We don’t always choose the humans in our life,

And since we met, there’s been plenty of strife.

Like that time I was dying, and you shoved me into a crate

Or the time you only put dry food on my plate.

Or when you told my human she should replace

Me with 68 kittens, right in front of my face.”

As I drew in my head and was turning around,

I couldn’t be sure if I’d really heard this sound.

He was dressed all in fur from his head to his toe,

Were these words really coming out of cat Moe?

A bundle of fur, from his nose to his back

He was just a cat, all white and all black

But he continued to speak, his voice was a purr

“But besides our differences, I know this for sure,”

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

and the beard on his chin was as white as the snow.

Moe said, with real thought, very close were our faces:

“We all come from our own different homes and places,

We each have experiences different and varied

You can never know what another person has carried

We cannot judge a book by its cover

Or know a what’s inside of one another.

We see on the outside, we look at the show

What they let us see and think that we know.

But the truth is that many of us have been alone

And on Christmas evening might not have a home

Filled with all of the things we are meant to have,

With perfect trees, and with stockings and a mom and a dad.

Moe Drinking

And licking his wet and whiskery nose,

He curled up beside me and began to dose.

Then I heard him exclaim, and I knew it was for reals

“The truth is this season, is about all the feels.”

He cuddled right up, he was even purring,

And I knew a true miracle was occurring.

Though my heart didn’t grow two sizes that night

And my shoes didn’t become any less tight

More amazing than Moe able to chat

Was that I actually warmed up to that cat.

Moe Malone the Cat

Photos by: Katie Malone

 

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©Jessie Hannah 2019