Weary Waiting

I’m dreaming of a white Christmuzzle, just like the muzzles I used to know…la la la…

Actually I have not really known many muzzles but this Christmuzzle promises to be short and sweet.  The best kind, if you ask me.

All this build up, gift-shopping, gift-wrapping, gift-giving, paper-ripping, ribbon-ravelling, and what for, I ask you?  You go to the window, you see your Ferarri, and that’s it! Finito.  Ready for New Ear’s.  Typo.  Year’s.

Or you put on your diamond-studded automatic-release kitty collar (in my dreams) that has a tiny built-in computer that calculates exactly what time your anthro should feed you LOTS of kibble and automatically gives him/her a memorable SHOCK when he/she snuggles behind your ears.  That’s it.

Like the Texas Rangers–one kitty, one prezzy, but a BIG one.  Maybe an air-conditioned kitty cabana for the beach, not that we’d go there, but still…

Okay, let’s bring it down.  That guy in red hears everything.  Let’s settle for a couple of tummy rubs and a very small helping of great kibble or a little dish of egg nog, minus the nog, whatever that is.

Hey, I’m easy.

I just want it OVER!!!

HEY, WAIT A MINUTE.  THIS IS TAKING MY SUGGESTIONS WAY TOO LITERALLY!