'Twas the week before Spring Break, when across my wee street,
Not a Spycat was stirring, no email, nor Tweet!
Strange letters had faded, I hadn't a care,
I hoped pine cones & Cheez-Its would vanish in air.
Viceroys were stationed on every close block;
I relaxed more each moment as I looked at the clock.
I heard Captain Flynn give his whistle and shout,
Purring ever more loudly as he called each name out:
"Now, Katie! now, CK! now Emma and Buster!
On, Tutu! on, Sammy! Break up that big cluster!
Now Nellie and Oui Oui, and you, my dear Callie!
Put down that Nip Nanner and cover the alley!
"Hey Binga and Austin, Savannah and Moosey:
Your furs are not tidy, your tails loosey-goosey!
Trout Town Tabbies, you look as high as a kite--
Have you been in the Haight for too much of the night?"
Then I saw Mata Hari, or my Sweet Screamoline;
To the top of the window, she slinkily climbed-
Then she dashed away, dashed away--up to the roof
And in front of my eyes, she simply went POOF!
Then Flynn laid his forepaw aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, rose up on his toes.
He sprang to his tunnel, calling out "Most well-done!"
And away they all flew, tired out from their fun.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he faded from sight—
“Happy Spying to all, and to all a Good Night!”
We settled ourselves for a night-time of purrs.