Christmas Cat

Well, it wasn't really a Christmas Cat, it's just that my brother found it on Christmas Eve.  It was our family cat. We used to let our cats go outside when ever they wanted.  Our cat, Fluffy, went outside a few days before Christmas and didn't come back.  My brother Bill found her on Christmas Eve and brought her home.  Awwww, sweet story, huh?  In MY family?  It's a true story, but I left out a few details.  My brother found Fluffy dead, all squashed flat from cars running over her, frozen to the middle of the road.  He went home, got a shovel, and worked for about 40 minutes carefully scraping her off the road.  Then he brought the frozen flat cat home.  I remember it like it was yesterday.  I was in the kitchen, he walked in the back door, lifted the frozen cat by her tail and said, "I found the cat." And started laughing.  And I started crying.  And my sister Barbara started crying.  We cried all night and didn't even want to open our presents.  That day my mother almost killed my brother. When my brother and his wife came to visit us this summer I gave him a present.  I had found a cast iron flat cat (life size) and got it for him.  I thought maybe it would make a great stepping stone in his flower garden, or maybe a door stop.  Next time I go to his house I expect to see it in an honored place. It's the least he can do.