Mr. Cat had far to go,
Through the raging, driving snow,
To find a shelter for his hide -
Since he’d been cruelly kicked outside.
Poor cat! He walked a lonely mile,
Eyes quite green with unspent bile,
Leaving footprints dark and deep
When he should have been snugly asleep.
Oh! The log fire burnt within the grate
As Mr. Cat walked, full of hate,
Wishing he was sprawled out wide
And definitely on the inside.
‘Pass the pudding, raise a cheer,
Have more turkey now my dear,
Pull a cracker, wear a hat -
Has anyone seen that dratted cat?’ 
Sad he plodded, cross he wailed,
Sadly caterwauling failed -
Off he trotted, very low,
Slinking, sinking, through that snow.
Oh! The passion in his heart,
Bursting his small frame apart!
The hatred for the feasts he saw
As he was kicked out of that door!
Pass the snowflakes, find some ice,
The freezing cold’s not very nice,
Pull a tendon, feel quite sore,
The wind is blasting, fierce and raw.
Mr.Cat, what have they done,
Why did you miss out on the fun,
What was it made these people do
The Unspeakable to you?
Mr.Cat, I wish you’d smile,
As you walk your lonely mile,
I wish that you’d admire with me
This world of soft snowy beauty.
Please Mr. Cat, don’t leave us here,
Enjoying all this festive cheer -
Find a nearby snowy place,
Somewhere to hide your coal-black face.
Then leave that outhouse, leave the trees,
Skulk around the back door, please,
We need to hear your piteous ‘miaow’
Saying you want to come in now.
Ah, Mr. Cat, I see you still -
My chin’s upon this windowsill -
There! You’ve gone! Still grimly certain,
As I draw shut my snug curtain.
A humorous poem about a cat being kicked out of the house at Christmas and then watched from an upstairs window by a small child as it plodded away. I have absolutely no idea why it was kicked out.
