Gizzi and I were having a little talk. He was sitting on my chest, as he often does, so that we were almost nose to nose.

"What do you want for Christmas?" I asked.

"Whatcha got?" he answered.

"Hmmm. Well, catnip?"

"Nah," he said, "We get that all the time."

"Some new toys? Mice and snakes and things like that?"

"But the old ones still have some good chewing time left in them!"

"A new bed?" I suggested.

"No, thanks," he said. "I'll just use yours."

"Well," I thought a minute, "I could promise to feed you and cherish you and clean up after you and to kiss you and scritch you and ...."

"Yeah, sure," he said. "What else is new?"

This was getting harder. Finally, the answer occurred to me -- something that never failed to excite and please his little heart, something that would make us both happy ....

PRIME RIB!

"Yeah," he said. "I could go for that!"

Copyright © Renee Darvin
December 24, 2000