Alfie The Holiday Cat

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I was dreaming about pilchards when I felt a tail tickling my fur. I opened one eye to see George, my kitten, hopping around my bed excitedly. I opened the other eye.

‘Wake up, Dad, it’s Christmas,’ he purred in my ear. I raised my whiskers. It felt far too early to be awake.

‘Wake up, everyone!’ Summer’s voice shouted, shattering any peace and quiet. ‘It’s Chrissssmass.’ She had joined George and they were both jumping around, making me feel quite dizzy.

‘Meow,’ I replied. I saw shadowy darkness poking through the landing window, but I knew no one would be getting back to sleep. When Summer made up her mind, no one stood a chance, and George was turning out to be the same way. The door opened and Claire, wrapping her dressing gown around her, emerged with a sleepy, tousled Jonathan on her heels.

‘Goodness, it’s only five,’ Claire complained.

‘But Santa’s been, I know he has,’ Summer shouted. ‘So, it must be Christmas time right now!’ She stamped her little foot. George tried to stamp his paw but he hadn’t mastered that.

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