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Holiday
greetings to cool cats everywhere |
| "You're not going to believe this,"
I said to my sister Tottie who was stretched out on the couch
in the office while I checked out my e-mail. "I'm not going to believe what?" she replied. "An American Santa Paws is not coming down any Ojai chimney this Christmas eve night." "No bunk? How come?" "Because of these crazy new regulations just issued by the FWTO." "FWTO? What's that?" she asked. "The Feline World Trade Organization," I said. "So what did they say?" "They said," said I, with barely contained irritation, "because most of the world's economies have now gone global we have to get our Santas from a foreign country and that our own American Santas will be dispatched to someplace beyond our borders." "I think that's kind of interesting," said Tottie. "I mean a Santa from somewhere overseas is sort of exciting." "Yeah, it could be," I said. "But the new regulations are a pain in the keester, if you know what I mean." "You think I was born yesterday? I know what a keester is. So what are the new regulations? And what's so painful about them?" "Well, you know that old tradition about leaving a plate of cookies and maybe a cup of hot chocolate for Santa?" "Yeah. So what about it?" "They don't want us to do it anymore." "Why not?" she asked. "Because it's too American. And since the Santa Paws coming down our chimney this year is a foreigner he won't appreciate the cookies." "Why? Don't they have cookies in all the other countries?" "I don't know. I've never been in any other countries. But you know how bureaucratic regulations are. Most of the time they lack common sense." "If we don't serve cookies, what are we supposed to serve Santa Paws?" "Ah, therein lies the rub." "Hey, Mr. Chips, where did you get that line? 'Ah, therein lies the rub'? I can't believe you said that. You think you're Shakespeare or something?" "No. No. No. It's something I picked up from Lamie." "I'm not surprised. Lamie says a lot of crazy things. You know that. So, tell me. What's the rub? What does the Feline World Trade Organization want us to put out for a hungry Santa?" "Well," I said, "if this e-mail means anything Ojai will be getting a Santa Paws from either France or Italy this year." "No kidding? That's pretty exotic. So what snack should we leave for him?" "It depends," I answered. "If he's from Italy we are to leave a dish of zuppa inglese. If it's France we are to leave choux a la creme." "Are you kidding? What is that stuff?" "Beats the heck out of me. We'll have to ask Lamie." "Lamie doesn't know everything." "Of course he doesn't. But he fakes it pretty well." "So? Which one are we getting? An Italian Santa or a French one?" "Well, if you'll excuse the expression, therein lies another rub." "Stop it already, will ya? You've been hanging with Lamie too long. Which Santa is coming our way?" "We won't know that until 4:33 in the afternoon on Christmas eve." "That doesn't give us much time to get a proper snack out," she said. "Regulations are regulations," I answered. "I don't know why we ever joined the FWTO." "Me neither," I replied. So to all you cool cats and those humans who wait on you hand and foot, we're just going to have to play it by ear this year. But my sister and I wish all of you a big happy meow and the merriest of Christmases. |