I Got An Arcade Game Made After Me!

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He was a shy, quiet kid. He was never sure what he might be good at. He had anxiety. But then.... he found something he enjoyed and made a living at it!

This is my son's journey and this arcade machine was made with and for him. It has sayings and his voice, it has graphics of some of the fun things Matt is all about in his YouTube videos!

This is one extremely proud and grateful mother. Son, I am beyond happy for you. May you always do what you love and make it a blessing in other's lives.

Let's All Have a Meet and Greet

I'm prompted today by a small stirring in my heart to write about something I witnessed yesterday at my son's Matt3756 meet and greet at the Replay FX event in Pittsburgh.

What is a meet and greet you may ask? Well, at conventions, they are celebrities of some sort sitting behind a table with their manager signing random autographs or taking photographs with fans. Most of the time if you are fortunate, some of the celebs are very kind and engaging, spending a little more time with you especially if you are the "fan girl" type like myself upon meeting Sean Astin from the "Lord of the Rings" trilogy. Yes, sadly this fifty-something-year-old lady made a fool of herself but Mr. Astin took it all in stride and even told me how adorable I was. (I can live on that forever!)

My son, Matt is a YouTuber for those of you who don't know him. YouTube is the new television for young people these days. They watch hours upon hours of this, and Matt is very popular to the point that he has done meet and greet events nearby and out of state as well. Children and their families have come from several hours away to meet with him. When I am with him, it always makes a mom smile. For I see him spend quality time with each child and their family, as if they are the only people who matter in that moment.

Yesterday at the event, I was playing a skee ball type of game, when I saw a mother and son who had already visited Matt's booth for autographs. She told me that the only reason they had come to the event was to meet Matt and how much her son loves him. Her son is a special needs child. I wasn't sure she knew that they could go back and "hang out" with Matt at his booth. He encourages his fans to stick around, chat, and play games. She hadn't known that, and was very glad I told her. So I noticed that they came back to his booth eventually, almost in a shy way as if they were bothering Matt.

Not only did Matt engage the little boy in more conversation, he cheered him on when he played Matt's table top claw machine. He encouraged him and made him feel special. I secretly watched as Matt talked with others, his loud and crazy voice and zany ways, that the little boy was grinning from ear to ear watching his favorite YouTuber acting silly.

At the end of the day, the mother thanked Matt so much for his time and making her son's day. There was a glow in my heart for God giving me such a good son; for letting me help mold him into a wonderful human being even though he doesn't realize it sometimes.

You see Matt wondered when he was a young child what he was good at. And I honestly didn't know at the time when he posed this question to me. I told him "wait and see." A pastor friend of mine from several years ago spoke words of prophecy when Matt was in a particularly depressed time, "Hold on for the ride!" he said. We had no idea those words would come true in a major way. We had no idea that what Matt would be good at, was to be a light in the darkness for many children. Yes, it's wonderful that he's able to make a living with his YouTube channel. But for me, it's the fact that he is doing God's will in this crazy world, meeting and greeting kids all over, and helping them to feel special.

I'm reminded a little of Fred Rogers. I've often told my son this. That he is a cross between Mr. Rogers and Jim Carey. Zany and crazy fun, with a heart attached. I can only hope that I touch lives like he does someday.

May we all be a "meet and greet" type of person. May we help the friend sitting near us telling us their troubles to feel like they are the only person on earth as we listen, truly listen to them. May we meet others with a cheerful greeting and enthusiasm. May we greet each day with the opportunity to be a blessing in a world that sometimes seems a little darker every day.

God, please use us to be your light.

This young man recently interviewed Matt. His name is Colton DeBiase and he has begun a movement that encourages people to "Live Like Fred." (Rogers, that is.) I love the idea.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K2PzUYBOrjU&t=47s

Matt's YouTube channel:

 https://www.youtube.com/user/matt3756

Our Shining Star

Count your blessings, they say. Think positive. Easy enough for people who aren't going through major life changes or depression.

I left for work this morning sulky and downcast. Though inspirational music played cheerily on my car radio, I couldn't muster one good thought. I arrived at work and the day began. Little by little, the routine began to settle me. I found that being busy was good for my spirits. And when a co-worker and I took a long walk during lunchtime, I turned my face upward to the shining sun and whispered a prayer of thankfulness.

As we returned to the office, I received a phone call from my son. He was going to spend a little time with my mother, his grandmother today. She had a doctor's appointment and he had volunteered to take her. He had questions for me, and I could hear in his voice that he was a little agitated, but he patiently answered the receptionist at the clinic while being respectful to my mother who kept talking in the background. My heart cracked in half as I thought of my son's goodness. It can't be easy for an almost thirty-year old to "hang out with grandma" one day a week. It can't be easy watching her mind failing, and answering her questions over and over, or listening to stories he's probably heard hundreds of times by now.

He took her out to eat after the appointment--something he does each week. He made sure she took her afternoon pills, knowing how much I worry about this every day. My mind could settle a bit as I relaxed and knew that Mom was in good hands. Matt is my mother's shining star, you see. She adores him and still refers to him as "My Darling." This is a name she has called him since he was a baby. I would walk into the house with Matt in my arms, and the minute he'd hear her say those words, his little feet would start kicking and he'd get the biggest smile on his face.

When she asked the other day who Matt was to me, my heart sank. But then I thought: at least she knows him. But I couldn't believe she didn't realize he is my son.

Matt is my shining star too, though. He is the blessing I am most grateful for every day of my life. His name, Matthew means gift of God, and it is appropriate. Any time I'm really down, I think of Matt and smile. His good heart, his infectious grin, his passion for causes that are right. Such a good young man. The best.

I am proud of him for more than this. He is someone who picked himself up from his own bout of depression. He cast off shyness that he'd had as a child, and did something about it. Matt took his passion to a whole new level and began doing what he really loved. Playing crane machines and making kids and their families happy. His YouTube channel and popularity have skyrocketed and I cannot think of a more deserving person.

I watch him at meet and greets when fans line up to talk with him. He takes time with each and every one of them, asking where they are from, and still humble enough to be amazed when they say they've come from out of state to see him. I see the looks on the faces of the children, the excitement of meeting their idol, and the joy from being there with him and it warms my heart. Matt gives of himself going above and beyond to make sure each child and family get plenty of attention. He's helped several kids who have been depressed as he shared a special story on his YouTube channel called "Draw My Life." And he donates his many wins to special charities and events. Yes, I cannot help but smile and feel very, very blessed when I think about the amazing person my son has turned out to be.

God, thank you for Matt, this gift you've given, this shining star for so many of us. And if anyone should be a true star in every sense of the word, I pray that Matt's popularity would grow and flourish even more in the years to come.

Hey, if you have a minute, check him out. Subscribe to his channel. I think he'll make you smile, too.

Matt's YouTube:
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCMe8Y3zO7_la3uHaWR3OVrg

Matt's Facebook Fan Page:
https://www.facebook.com/matt3756official/

Matt's special story: Draw My Life:

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MkpgB9BNQNY

Such a good man

We painted small plastic football men with toothpicks. Made a Crystal Radio kit. Spent countless hours trying to understand word problems with my math homework.

We bonded over crafts: pine cone Christmas trees. The doll houses he so painstakingly put together. Would my brother and I please purchase some contact cement for him? Oh, and could we pick up a small can of tan paint? Tan is such a good color for the outside of a three-story miniature home.

Blip, bleep goes the hospital monitors. Whooshing sounds; the ventilator--the most hated and loved of life-saving devices. Drip, drop goes the intravenous fluids. Dad lays there, drifting in and out of sleep. His eyes open for a moment and he waves to us as we stand gathered at his bedside.

Each one of us takes our turn to whisper words of encouragement. His grandson, my son Matt, who tells his beloved "Lamp" as he calls him, that his YouTube fans are sending out prayers and good wishes. This makes him smile. I know it's a smile, for I see those eyes twinkle still yet as Dad hears this. So proud of being in one of Matt's YouTube videos, playing the silly claw machine and winning a Betty Boop doll that the fans went crazy over. Several of the kids liked Dad so much, they even asked for his autograph.

My mother lays her head against his arm. Their fingers are entwined together. Sixty years. A good marriage. I show the kind nurses pictures on my cell phone of Mom and Dad when they first wed; those two gorgeous people in their early lives, so much hope before them.

I pray out loud, offering words of comfort and strength. Dad closes his eyes. He knows the Lord.

The silly names he has called us all through the years float through my mind and the nonsense language he invented. If we were shopping and he needed kleenex, I knew what the word lagogos meant. My son Matt has been Raymond to him, my brother, Matty or Boy. And my own magical names: toots, Tenya, Nice-a Toy. Oh I want to hear those words from his lips right now.

He wanted to talk yesterday, of that I'm certain. Knowing Dad as well as I do, I filled in the blanks for him as I watched his eyes and hands. I tried my best to envision what he might like to tell us all.

The silly hats Dad used to put on when we would be shopping together. Once he donned a type of fedora and pretended to be Hannibal Lector from Silence of the Lambs. A big, tin popcorn can went on his head one Christmas, and he breathed like Darth Vader stating: "Luke, I am your father." He unzipped his postal sweater one evening, singing "It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood" as good as Fred Rodgers.

He loves Peter Sellers Inspector Clouseau movies. War pictures. Funny Farm with Chevy Chase. Marathon Man with Dustin Hoffman. I think of the hours we've watched and re-watched these films, able to quote whole scenes from them.

A good life. A good man. Even the nurses tell us this. When asked how he is feeling, they always get a "thumbs up" from Dad. From the little they know of our family story, and the times they were able to actually speak with him, every single person who has met Dad in the hospital says the same thing. What a good guy. Gracious. Kind. So sweet. Yeah, they have a small glimpse of who he is.

Keep fighting, strong man. Know how much you are loved, not only by your family, but by every life you have touched and blessed.

A mother's birthday wish

Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dear Matt, Happy birthday to you!

A mother's love doesn't dwindle over time. On the contrary, I believe it gets stronger. When our kids were little, they needed us for most everything. And as they grew, they needed us less and less. So if on my son's birthday I want to make a little fuss all over him, I'm gonna do it. I don't get much of a chance for this sort of behavior any longer.

Did I embarrass him today? Hope so. For isn't that what birthdays are all about? A time for fussing loudly, feeling special and making a little noise?

So here's to you my dear son. May you always be blessed. May God hold you in the palm of His hand. May you find favor in all that you do. May you have good friends, and never know what loneliness is. May you laugh often and love much. May you always have respect for those in authority, your grandparents and me and your father. May you have success in all that you put your hand to.

May you find a relationship with God at some point in your life, knowing He's the true author of all the events. May you feel a comfort, a peace in speaking with Him, knowing you can trust your heart to the author and perfecter of all things.

May you live a long and healthy life, enjoying your work, play and relationships. And may you know just how much this crazy mother loves you!

Happy birthday, son.

Old-fashioned ways

Yesterday, while eating Thanksgiving dinner with my family, I couldn't help but ponder some of our customs and old-fashioned ways. For instance, how certain foods are made. With no deviations, Mom and I pretty much make dishes the same way since time began. The background music during dinner, old time records, yes, vinyl, my father lovingly brought to the house for us all to enjoy. These records have cracks, chips, some of them skip uncontrollably, but they all evoke memories. How can I not hear Percy Faith's "Carol of the Bells" and not get a bit choked up, thinking back to years ago, my brother and I as younger kids and the warmth of our family home?

It's this very warmth I want to talk about today. For several years I've been writing books. I have this blog, The Finches Nest, Inspirational Stories and I also have a story going pretty much all the time either in my head, or on my laptop. What I've hoped to convey over the years are heartfelt, old-fashioned stories.

Take for instance my book called "Reflections From my Mother's Kitchen." It's just that: a memoir-based tale, though fiction, but evoking all the warmth and memories of my mother's old-fashioned kitchen and old time customs. Things my son and his generation may never understand.

In this world of fast paced cell phone, i-pad technology, I'd like the younger people to take a moment and bask in some good old-fashioned warmth.

I recently got this very kind editorial review of my book "Piggy." What I've hoped to tell with this book is a story of friendship, honor, fun, adventure and good old-fashioned values. I feel these may be traits that I see sadly lacking in today's television and movies. Take a look:

Editorial Reviews

Review

Reviewed By Jane Finch for Readers' Favorite

Piggy by Karen Malena is a delightful story involving a cat and a mouse and their unusual friendship. Goober, a mother cat, has an adopted kitten, Peanut, and she entertains him by telling him the story of Piggy the cat and a mouse named Melvin. The story involves an assortment of other animals and takes the reader on a journey into the animal world. In a clever twist, Peanut finds out that the story his mother is telling him has far more meaning than he expected, and that someone close to him is involved in a way he had not imagined. The idea of the mother cat soothing her restless kitten with a story is charming, and the story itself is captivating.

This is a clever story that, although probably aimed at middle-grade age, would be lovely read to a younger child by a parent. I also think older children and even adults would enjoy the story and the antics of the animals. The author, Karen Malena, has done a really good job of weaving in a few life lessons. The fact that a cat and a mouse can be friends shows the importance of friendships and helping one another, even though the perception would be that they would be enemies. This is a gentle book with a story that is fun and enjoyable and also an exciting adventure. It's also about caring for one another and not always taking things on face value. I think it would make a perfect bedtime story where the reader could explain the story and its interpretations to a younger child.

 

This reader saw in my story exactly what I wished to convey. I'm very pleased to see such kind words. It is my hope that you, too, will take a moment, whether you're an e-book reader, or enjoy paperback, and pick up a copy of "Piggy" today. In time for the holidays, it's 25% off on my publisher's site. 

Let's bring back the heart of good old fashioned stories! Enjoy a good book today!

 

 

 

http://www.tuxedoebooks.com/

http://www.amazon.com/Piggy-Karen-Malena-ebook/dp/B00MR92EXS/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1417208509&sr=8-1&keywords=karen+malena+piggy

Chapter One: Goober's Tail

Piggy

Part 1

Goober’s Tail

A pink-nosed kitten barely two months old, reached his paws toward the stately grey-striped tabby trying to bathe him with her sandpaper tongue. He swatted at her tail, trying to catch it between two small, but very furry paws. He wriggled away from her, annoyed at this bath time ritual.

“Stop it, Mom, that tickles,” the kitten said.

The mother cat ignored her babe, continuing to lick every inch of her precious adopted son. The tongue combed through the white fur, and her paw gently held him down.

She fretted over the rescued kitten, not only in keeping him clean, but especially because he was so vulnerable, the smallest one of the litter. Her human had chosen him from the animal shelter for this very reason. He had a soft spot for the underdogs of the world.

“Why do I have to be clean before bed?” The kitten squirmed, catching his mother’s tail this time before she gently pulled it away from him.

The mother cat who’d answered this question many times before stopped for a moment.

“Peanut,” she said. “I have a different kind of “tail” for you. What if I tell you the most wonderful story tonight? It’s a bedtime tale that I think you might enjoy.”

Peanut the kitten stopped fussing; his big green eyes alight with wonder. “A story, Mama, a fun story?”

“Oh yes, but this one is true. It’s about an unlikely friendship, great bravery, heroes and villians. This is the story of the great mouse rescue.”

“A mouse?” Peanut questioned.

The grey-striped tabby cuddled her young one close. She licked his soft, tiny head and then rested her chin upon him. A sigh escaped her, and she looked up into the darkness of the room; her cat night vision excellent. Her human was asleep, snoring away in the next room. She closed her eyes and let the thoughts come to her; thoughts of her dear sister and friends. A meow that sounded oddly like a chuckle echoed in her mind, or had she heard it?

Settling in with her paw across Peanut’s back, Goober the cat began her tale.

                                                                        *****

A dilapidated, gray-shingled house sat among tidy red brick homes in a quiet neighborhood of Ambridge, Pennsylvania. It stood out for the peeling strips of paint, the sagging front porch, and the tendrils of ivy creeping up the side. A wooden fence badly in need of a paint job surrounded it with a creaking, rusty gate. Behind this gate sat the meanest, toughest, and angriest cat anyone ever laid eyes on: his name was Bolivar. He belonged to no one and nobody belonged to him. Day after day, he’d wait for unsuspecting pretty, seducing them with his snake-like voice, and then grabbing them when they least expected.

The house in which he stood sentry had been deserted for several years. He claimed this property for himself and picked fights with other cats in the neighborhood who dared step foot inside his weedy yard.

Bolivar lifted his ragged orange head and licked at a wound on one paw. The scar on the right side of his face and his partially torn ear pained him today; the results of many battles. His stomach growled; he hadn’t eaten a decent meal in at least four days.

Recently, the neighbors had begun to lock their trashcans up tightly; a few of them included heavy bricks on top to prevent him from tipping them. Not a scrawny bird to eat, not even a tasty little crawling bug; his mood went from bad to worse.

Out of the corner of his eye, through one of the slats in the fence, Bolivar spotted movement. In the next yard, a plump, furry brown mouse frolicked about. With his changing luck, Bolivar perked up. He lay low to the ground, every muscle in his body tense and alert. His tail twitched in anticipation and his hind quarters wiggled as he sprung forward to pounce upon the unsuspecting rodent. . .

                                                                        *****

Goober paused for a moment with her story. Peanut apparently had forgotten all about sleeping. He stared at his mama, wide-eyed.

“I thought you said this was a mouse rescue? It sounds like this cat was ready for dinner.”

“I did, son, be patient,” Goober said, and resumed licking her kitten. Peanut rolled onto his back, paws in the air, Mama’s tongue made the fur of his belly stick up in all directions.

“Well I don’t like Bolivar,” Peanut shivered. “He sounds mean and scary.”

“Yes, he was,” Goober said, sighing. “But let me go back a little further. I’m going to tell you how another cat, a brave, beautiful cat got the best of him and how she and a mouse became the closest of friends.

You see, we don’t always have to fight or prove ourselves to be big and strong. Sometimes it’s the smallest of creatures who can teach us life’s greatest lessons.”

Peanut began purring while mama resumed her story.

If you enjoyed this preview of the first chapter of the book "Piggy" below are the links to order a copy. Available in paperback and e-book versions.

http://www.tuxedoebooks.com/store/p9/Piggy.html

 http://www.amazon.com/Piggy-Karen-Malena-ebook/dp/B00MR92EXS/ref=sr_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1410223907&sr=1-3&keywords=karen+malena

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/piggy-karen-malena/1120032425?ean=9780990619116


http://www.tuxedoebooks.com/store/p9/Piggy.html

Some of the proceeds of this book will be donated to My Ferals, a Facebook cat community which helps many stray and feral cats.

Here is a link to a free giveaway of the book to one lucky person!
 http://katzenworld.co.uk/2014/09/09/book-review-piggys-story-by-karen-malena/

Because He Saved My Life

A young girl thinks of harming herself. Just this once, she thinks. Yeah, I did it before, but I can control it. I can stop anytime I want.

She picks up the jagged piece of glass, the one she found at the bus stop when nobody was looking. The one she slipped into her purse, tucking it deep down inside, the way she's tucked her feelings.

 It's a long road that's taken her to this point. She feels lost, unloved, afraid, alone. Children in school taunt her, call her names, push her, spit on her.

She sits alone in her room. Her computer whirs to life, and she clicks on a link. The jagged glass lays atop her desk, the overhead light reflects in it. She looks at it, then at the screen. She's typed in something silly, something that meant so much to her as a child. Two words: Claw machines. They used to make her happy when Mom and Dad brought her to the mall. The way pushing the joystick made you feel in control, if only for a short time. The way you were rewarded with a little toy prize if you did well.

The girl picks up the shard of glass. Maybe just a little cut on her leg this time. It would release so much tension. It would make her feel alive again, if only for a moment.

Something catches her eye. She sees a smiling face staring back at her from the computer screen, a YouTube video. She clicks on the link and a young man plays a claw machine, nonsense words come from his mouth, but they make her laugh. His zany antics hold her captive for the moment, and she laughs again, a welcome sound in the stillness of her room.

Over and over she watches one video after another. This boy who jumps around, making funny faces, winning prizes in that most beloved of games. She puts the glass down. It does not captivate her as it once did. For she's found another outlet now. A positive one. A role model who knows what it's like to feel alone. A role model who's been through shyness, insecurity, and pain.

She writes a fan letter to this boy. And when she hears back from him, her life has changed. She's not a nameless face in the crowd. For someone has acknowledged her. Someone who has journeyed a long way himself, and found light at the end of the tunnel.

The girl holds her head up. She vows to make a change. The broken shard of glass goes into the trashcan, falling to the bottom never to be seen again. I can do this, she thinks. I can do anything I put my mind to. I'm not the same person. . . because he saved my life.

We just want to be loved

Hello everyone. I'd like to introduce myself. I'm Piggy, and yes, I'm a cat. Some of you may know me from Facebook and others of you may know me from my human, Matt3756 YouTube videos. If you've never met me before, then welcome, and glad to meet you.

I'm choosing to write on my grandmother's blog today to tell you a little bit about me. 

A few years back, oh, maybe seven or eight, a wonderful human named Rick adopted my sister Vision the cat and I. We were rescued from a neglectful situation. There wasn't much food where we came from. Rick was very kind to us and gave us a warm home and all the food we could eat. Before you knew it, I'd gained some weight, well, quite a bit actually, but began trusting humans once again.

It was around that time Rick's young nephew Matt moved in with us. We hit it off right away, he and I. Time went by and we became inseparable. I enjoyed cuddling with him, even let him film me as he made his crazy videos. 

My sister Vision became sick and left us to go over the rainbow bridge. It was at that time I really bonded with Matt. He and I moved into our own home almost a year ago now and I have lots of room to play, lots of great food and treats, and wonderful windows to look out of at all the pretty birds.

One day Matt came home with a wriggling gray kitten. I took one look at it and told him to bring it back to where it came from. But getting into the spirit of things, I decided it would be best for all involved if I'd at least try to be nice to it.

Her name is Goober, and she is now my adopted sister. We enjoy plotting destruction together, and she even lets me bathe her, which is kind of nice.

My grandma is a writer, and asked me one day if I would mind if she wrote a fantasy story about me. I thought it would be a great idea. So gram's been working on a manuscript, and we're hoping to get it out as a book very soon. We had a lot of fun collaborating on ideas. I hope you'll enjoy a "tail" about me and my adventures and let us know how you liked them.

For now, I want to thank you for your time, and remember: your cats, dogs, birds, bunnies, all your pets and your dear friends and family are much like me and you. They, too, just want to be loved. 

Love, Piggy

A Very Piggy Christmas

Merry Christmas everyone from Piggy the Cat, my alter ego. Today I've decided to post an excerpt from the final chapter of Piggy's book which would have been the Christmas volume. Although all her stories will be told in an upcoming paperback book, I want to share with her special fans just a little of the fun that awaits. You guys are amazing and Piggy wouldn't be who she is without all of you. Thanks so much for following her on Facebook and reading her books! You all rock!

Chapter 4

A Very Piggy Christmas

     I opened my eyes and blinked lazily at the bright light of a new day, shivering in the chill of the early winter morning. The wind howled, making the glass window panes rattle. Matt was already up and gone, his spot on the bed already cooled. He must have left much earlier.

     Settling in, making myself presentable for the day, I licked my paw scrubbing it over my face and ears, nibbling between my toes in the way that all cats do, careful to clean every crevice, my hind leg poised in the air. Out of the corner of my eye I spied Melvin my mousy companion in the hallway, sneaking along the baseboard.

     “Psst,” I called out. “Matt’s not here, Mel. Come on in.” I put my leg down and patted the top of the bed with my paw. Melvin scampered into Matt’s bedroom and climbed the quilted comforter with a few small scrambles of his hind legs. Once he was up, he stood on his back feet, nose pointing into the air, agog with curiosity.

     “Nice room,” he said. “Ooh, look.” He pointed near Matt’s computer where an old bowl of ice cream sat, melted. “Good thing your master isn’t a neat freak,” Melvin said. We both investigated and found vanilla ice cream with a smattering of rainbow sprinkles. One lone candy gummy worm sat off to the side of the dish looking a bit forlorn. Melvin scooped the candy into his clutches and set off nibbling the wormy head first. I lapped up the delectable vanilla flavor carefully crunching the sprinkles with my back teeth.

     Melvin looked funny with his cheeks puffed out, the last of the gummy worm dangling from his mouth. He slurped the rest of the body in, and then began licking his paws careful to remove the stickiness.

     “How’s your new room?” I asked, jumping down from the computer desk onto the hardwood floor. My nails always made a ticking sound which I found amusing.

     “Well, I’m pretty much done with the decorating. Maybe you can come see it later. If you can squeeze through the door.” Melvin added quietly as an afterthought.

     “I heard that,” I said. “Thanks for the insult.” I walked away from my pal with my tail indignantly in the air. “Humph!”

     I ran down the stairs to the first floor, Melvin close behind. “Sorry Piggy. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

     “No, of course you didn’t,” I said rolling my eyes and trying to keep some distance between us. I jumped on the back of the couch, sharpening my claws on the cushion. A bit of fluff poked from a small hole I’d created and I batted at it for a while. I pulled at it a bit harder and out popped a wad. Woops.  I tried stuffing it back into the hole and gave up a moment later, swatting it behind the couch.

     Next, I busied myself with a blanket thrown over the arm of the sofa. Using my delicate sense of touch with the pads of my paws, I kneaded the soft afghan over and over, purring as I did. The scent of my master lay embedded in the fabric as well making it especially cozy.

     All the while, Melvin kept trying to get my attention. He didn’t speak but kept running to and fro, annoying me.

      “Mel, would you give up already? I’m not in the mood today.”

     Melvin slunk away, wiry brown tail between his legs. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him mount the staircase, head hung low as he trudged to the second floor.

     Humph. Serves him right. I’m tired of the snide remarks, I thought to myself. I’ll show him a thing or two. I won’t speak to him for a few days. Then when he misses me, he’ll come running back, apologizing for the comments and beg me for forgiveness.

     Contented, I curled around and around on the fuzzy blanket laying my head onto my paws; my whipcord tail curled around me and fell into blissful slumber.

     Awakening much later, it felt as if the light had been sucked right out of the day. It was dim in the living room, though the sheer curtains were opened. Fat, lazy snowflakes began falling. Feathery, lacey, they cascaded through the air, lighting on bushes and grass. I jumped from the couch onto the window sill, my breath making frosty fog on the glass. Brrr. The day had grown even chillier. No wonder, I thought, it is December.

      Thanksgiving had just passed and Christmas was still a few weeks away. I’d always enjoyed Christmas in the old house; watching Matt’s uncle decorate, watching him and Matt pile colorful, wrapped presents under the tree. Most of all, I enjoyed guessing which ones were for me.

     Matt had a small artificial Christmas tree stuck in the corner of our living room. I liked the fake bark, and enjoyed raking my claws down the length of the trunk when Matt wasn’t looking. He’d put it up a day or so ago. Colorful twinkle lights covered every branch. Homemade ornaments from my master’s youth hung from tiny hooks.

     I liked everything about this season. The silly cartoons Matt watched, the same ones over and over through the years. I’d grown accustomed to waiting for them: the Grinch, Frosty and Rudolph. The festive songs were so cheerful and light. The many different kinds of foods and cookies Matt’s mom and grandmother made. Christmas Eve was best of all since they prepared fish as many ways as possible. Tuna spaghetti, some type of small fish called smelts, shrimp and haddock. My mouth drooled just thinking about it.

     I loved basking in the attention and warmth as Matt’s family gathered together. Humans are very fortunate to have such a wonderful time of the year.

     The snow fell harder outside, blanketing everything as I continued watching and daydreaming.  The wind raged and blew the sparkling diamonds of white all around. An extremely large burst of wind gusted, and the front door to my house flew open.

     What on earth? I crouched low and my ears flattened to my head, a ball of fear in my stomach. I’d never seen such a thing happen before. Hadn’t Matt locked up well behind himself this morning?

To Be Continued. . .

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