The Legend of the Cat

Legend tells of how, on the first Christmas Eve when the holy Babe lay in His Bethlehem crib, a strange and wonderful thing happened throughout fields and forests. All the wild ceatures, all the beasts and all the birds, left their lairs and their nests and travelled in silent wonder to pay homage to the Lord.
Cat came, too. Shy and wild, from the nightly depths of the forest, Cat came. With arched back, soundless step, and staring eyes he came and curled no closer than the warmth of the hearth. There he lay, silent and distant, while all the other creatures bowed down together in peaceful reverence, the lion and deer, the eagle and hare, the fox and field mouse. Cat, overcome by glory, could only gaze at the Baby's bed, could not bow his head, and a low, trembling sound grew from deep in his throat.
As morning dawned, a sense of sameness returned. One by one the creatures fled. Except Cat. He remained, unable to quit the crib and hearth, unable to come closer. Mary's voice broke the silence.
"Dear Cat", she said, "dear proud, stubborn, stiff-necked Cat, bless you. Now, leave wilderness behind. By no force, you have stayed. The hearth has bound you to itself. From this hour, you shall be where Man is, fond and free. And your pulsing, household humming shall bring warmth to many a family."
And so it has been. Some winter nights, vague jungle stirrings gleam in Cat's eyes. His back arches, claws stretch and scatch at the remembrance. But the dream flees, and Cat curls, reassured and content, upon his human hearth.