A Visit From Grand Champion RagaMuffin


Ragamuffin cat


author  – Randy (RH) Schmidt                     New Walden RagaMuffins


T’was the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;

The Muffins’mitts were hung by the chimney with care,

In hopes that Grand Champion Muffin soon would be there;

The little Muffins were all nestled and snug in their beds;

While visions of candied mice danced in their heads;

And Dad and his C-Pap and I in my wrap,

Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,

Tore open the shutters and threw back the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,

Gave a lustre of midday to objects below,

When what to my wondering eyes appeared on top of the ice,

But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny mice,

With the most agile driver, so lively and tough,

I knew in a moment it must be Grand Champion Muff.

More rapid than eagle the courses they came.

And he whistled and catawauld, and called them by name;

“Now, Dasher! Now, Dancer! Now Prancer and Vixen!

On, Comet! on Cupid! on Donner and Blitzen!

To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!

Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”

As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;

So up to the housetop the courses they flew

With a sleigh full of toys, and Grand Champion Muff too—

And then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof

The prancing and scratching of each little foot.

As I drew in my head and was turning around,

Down the chimney Old Grand Muff came with a bound.

He was dressed in fur from his head to his foot,

And his fur was all covered in ashes and soot;

A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,

And he looked just like a feral attacking a sack.

His eyes—how they reflected! His whiskers how twitching!

His cheeks were so padded, His dipped nose like a cherry!

His drool little mouth was in a definite grin,

And the ruff around his neck was luxurious and trim;

A sprig of catnip he held tight in his teeth,

And the aura he emitted encircled him like a wreath;

He had a very round head and a fat padded belly

That shook when he laughed like a bowl full of Jelly.

He was chubby and plump a right jolly old Cat

And I laughed when I knew he was a Muffin at that;

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He meowed not a word, but went straight to his work,

And filled the Muffs’ mitts; then turned with a Jerk,

And laying his paw aside of his nose,

And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;

He sprang to his sleigh, to his mice gave a whistle;

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I head him catawauld as he drove out of sight—

“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”