The Thief Who Ruined Christmas

I bolted upright,

I didn't make a sound,

I padded to the door,

Stepping over toys that lay on the ground.
 

I crept toward the stairs,

Just to see if Santa had been,

For I thought I'd heard a noise,

But maybe it was just a dream.
 

I tiptoed silently down the stairs,

So I wouldn't wake the rest of the house,
And edged my way to the lounge room door,

As silent as a mouse.
 

I peeped around the corner.

And couldn’t believe what I could see?
Someone was taking presents,
From under our Christmas tree!

I looked again,

This was just not right.
He was taking our presents,
But .... Not without a fight!

I jumped out from behind the door,

Coiled up into a bunch,
I launched myself at him,
And landed with a sickening crunch.

He jumped into the air,

Spilling presents to the floor.
And he knocked a table flying,
As he scrambled for the door.

He wasn't leaving though,

For I was ready to stand and fight.
My eyes tracked his every move,
As he tried to flee into the night.

I launched myself onto his back,

And dug in deep.
As he let out a terrible scream,
And we went down in a tangled heap.

We wrestled and fought,

And he threw me on my back,
He held me there panting,
While I snarled and I spat.

He grabbed me by the scruff of the neck

And pinned me to the floor,
"Just look what you've done!" He screamed,
As he pointed towards the door.

I looked up in horror.

The lounge was in an awful state.
The presents were in tatters,
And the tinsel and baubles had suffered a similar fate.

The noise had woken the rest of the house,

And they couldn't get down stairs fast enough,
Puzzled at all the commotion and shouting, 
"What on earth is all the fuss?"

"Look at what that psycho has done", he screamed,

As he stormed out the door.
And I?
I could only crawl away,
With my eyes glued to the kitchen floor.

Every eye in the room glared at me,
And I felt so ashamed.
For they glared,
Knowing it was me that was to blame.

"Christmas is ruined" they cried,
"You have no idea what you've done!
Dad is positively fuming, 
And he's gone to get his gun!"

"You'd better make yourself scarce,
And stay away for the night.
He said you'd be trouble,
And now you've proved him right!

But why did you go berserk,

And attack him like that?
The lady at the shelter promised,
That you were the most docile ... Kitty Cat!