“Yes, true, but see, it’s Christmas. Every Christmas day like he did on Thanksgiving, they serve free hot turkey and ham dinners to the town’s poor and homeless, and give them things like warm coats and blankets and toys for the little kids. It’s really fun, and it helps people,” said Saav.
Bart sighed, smiling. “Wow, these humans are really nice. Can I help too?”
Pook and Saav laughed. “Bart, you already have! There isn’t a mouse to be found around here!” exclaimed Saav.
“But that was my job. I made an agreement with Carrie, remember?” he reminded them.
“Of course we remember, silly. And you did it in spades!” laughed Pook.
Just then, Carrie came in through the front door of the store. “Merry Christmas, Bart!” she called.
He bounded toward her, and stopped short, his eyes widening. Carrie plopped down a fun-looking, carpet-covered, multi-leveled series of platforms.
“M-Merry Christmas,” he stammered, remembering his manners but looking at the kitty playhouse with interest. “What is that?”
“It’s called a kitty playhouse,” she said. “You can climb it, play on it, hide in it, and scratch on it.”
“Woooooo! That’s cool, Carrie,” said Saav.
Bart stared. “For me?”
Carrie smiled and scooped him up into her arms, cuddling him. “Well, I can’t fit inside it, and I don’t have claws to sharpen, so it sure is yours.”
He nuzzled Carrie’s soft cheek, purring. “Thank you, Carrie.”
“Thank YOU, Bart,” she said, giving him a kiss and setting him on top of it. Pook and Saav climbed up to join him.
Carrie watched them playing and climbing and smiled. Bart certainly had filled out in the five months he’d come to live there. He was huge now, about 15 pounds, and his fur was glossy and shining. The vet had pronounced him fit and healthy, and this Christmas morning, he was the epitome of a well-taken-care-of cat.
Pook poked Carrie with a paw. “Merry Christmas,” she said.
Carrie laughed and petted Pook and Saav, picking little Saav up. “And Merry Christmas to my favorite first mousetraps! I got to get next door and help cook Christmas dinners. You guys enjoy yourselves, and there’s a box up front for you when you want to go see it.”
“A box? I go outside, remember?” said Bart.