'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house only one creature was stirring, only it wasn't the mouse. The stockings were hung by chimney with care, and Benson wondered how he could get into mischief there.

Chloe was all nestled and snug in her bed, while visions of ballerinas danced in her head. With Kris in her nightgown and Sheldon with his bone, everyone was settled and off their phone.

When out on the lawn he heard such a clatter, he spring from the couch to see what was the matter. Away to the picture window he darted as quick as a light on a match. There were no shutters for him to tear open, but I think you get the catch.

When what to his cat eyes should appear, but a sleigh and eight tiny cats. When a little furry driver so lively and quick, he knew in a moment it must be St.. catnick. Faster than field mice, oh away he came. Mowed and shouted and away they came.

"Now curious, now playful, now cuddly and caring! On smart, on friendly, on pounce and prance. To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall! Now prance away! Prance away! Prance away all!"

And then up on the roof I heard the pawing and prancing of each little paw. As I came away from the window, and was Turing my head, down from the chimney came St. Catnick with a bound.

All furry from his head to his foot, it was all tarnished with ashes and soot. A sack full of catnip and toys he flung over his back.

His eyes twinkled, and his whiskers so Merry. His fur so soft, and his nose like a cherry.

He made not a peep not even a meow, but went straight to work he filled the stockings and turned with a twist. Laying a paw upside his nose, he gave a quick wink and up the chimney he rose.

And I heard him exclaim as he flew out of sight, meowy Catmas to all, and to all a cuddly night.