My wife, Stacy, wrote this poem way back in Christmas 2006. It's about us and our cats, Rufus and Sam.
Her poem got some serious Web traffic, and it's been rerun annually since. Since we moved from Brooklyn to New Hampshire we have adopted a few more cats.
It's bittersweet now, since big red Rufus died on December 5, 2014.
It was cancer and there was nothing we could have done. He had a
wonderful life. He adored Stacy, who tamed him from a wild cat from the
big city to a sweet, round, purring house cat. He had no idea he was on
the Internet, of course. In the middle of Covid, Sam got very sick and passed away. Out two beloved Brooklyn kitties. They are dearly missed.
For auld lang syne, here is
the poem again, starring our two cats from Brooklyn, Rufus and Sam:
The Great Ham Caper
Words by Stacy Lynch
Pictures by Mike Lynch
’Twas the week before Christmas
When Rufus and Sam
Hatched a devious scheme
To make off with the ham!
The ham that would grace
The holiday table!
Roo was the brains.
Sam, wiry and able.
They devised a plan
Of Goldbergian proportions
With pulleys and weights
And kitty contortions.
And on Christmas day
They’d eat until stuffed
(The very idea
Made their tails slightly puffed!)
’Til then, they’d lay low,
Little angels to see.
But that made us suspicious –
Wouldn’t you be?
So we snooped and we sleuthed
And uncovered their caper -
“The Ham-Stealing Plan”
Diagrammed on a paper!
“No silly cat’s gonna
Steal my roast beast,”
Exclaimed Mike. “Just watch,
I’ll ruin their feast!”
So he countered their scheming
With mad plans all his own
And all I could do
Was inwardly groan!
Who’d win this contest
Of wits they were planning?
Would Mike, Roo or Sam -
Be last man or cat standing?
As Christmas day dawned
The four of us waited
For the ham to be served
With breaths that were bated.
But before the main course
Could even be plated
Their plans took a turn.
Some say it was fated...
What happened to stop them
So cold in their tracks?
Why, cat-nip and husb-nip
(in big canvas sacks)
Was all that it took
To stop their foul warring.
And they rolled and purred
And drooled on the flooring.
And as long as I kept
My fingers and toes
Away from a hubby and two cats
In nip’s throes -
My own Christmas day
Turned out merry and calm;
The ham moist and succulent,
The champagne, a balm.
When they “awoke”,
hostilities abated,
We all ate some ham
And went to bed sated.
And such peace we wish
To you and to yours:
An end to fighting;
An end to wars.
Happy Holidays!
Mike and Stacy and Rufus and Sam
UPDATE: and, the "new" cats: Dexter and Fergus and Tank.
Happy Holidays, everyone.
It's time to be with family. So, this blog will be quiet for a time. I'll see you soon.
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