I’ll be home for Christmas, you can count on me
I don’t need snow, or mistletoe, those dried fruit rained on me,
all the way as I wade through that curvy road to the top of the city.
I don’t want a present underneath the tree. I don’t want the wind, the jingle bells, the ribbon tied on its knees.
But when Christmas eve finds me, at your doorstep, scratching gingerly, will you have me?
I am only skinny, my fur is dirty. My intestine failed me and I have lost one eye to behold much beauty.
I am so much to be, so much to keep. I am special need, will it drain everything eventually, and I am back where I used to be?
Then you open the door, and let me be. The house is dirty, the place is tiny.
But there is a warm bowl of food waiting for me, fresh, clean water changed regularly.
The warm bed, and a little cranny just for me.
So Christmas eve will find me, then. Where the love light gleams
Yes, I am home for Christmas.
Not only in my dreams.
This post is adapted from and use parts of “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” written by the lyricist Kim Gannon and composer Walter Kent. Originally written to honor soldiers overseas who longed to be home at Christmastime, the song was recorded in 1943 by Bing Crosby.