‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was moving, not even…You know, I’m not one for old stories. They have their place, but… I think I’d rather write my own. Make it new. Make it mine. My name is Mouse… and this is the story I want to write. It’s a story about being home for Christmas, of course. But it starts a couple weeks before. There once was a little cat named Mouse. She had big green eyes and little white mittens and a happy, loving heart. What she didn’t have was a family of her own.  As the nights grew longer and colder, Mouse began to wonder if she would ever find a home. Her kittens had long ago been adopted. She watched her feline friends at the shelter be chosen by families, one after another, and she waited.

But Mouse knew, deep in her heart, that Christmas is the time when wishes can come true. So, every night, she would look at the stars and make a wish. “I wish for a home where I’ll have toys to play with,” she’d think one night. And, the next, “I wish for a home where I might have someone to snuggle at night.” She’d think, “A home with other animals would be okay… I don’t mind cats or dogs,” and “I promise I wouldn’t be much trouble in my new home- I’m mellow as can be.”  But still, people passed her by. And still, she squeezed each night and thought, “please.”  Until, one day (a day just like today… or maybe tomorrow), someone came through the door.  That part of the story is still to be written. I don’t know how it ends. With someone kind. Someone a lot like you. With a happily ever after. With a “home for Christmas.”  With a “‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, the whole family was smitten with their new kitty, Mouse!”