Miso and Daisy's First Christmas - A Cozy Bedtime Story for Adults - Rest: Sleepy Bedtime Stories

Episode Transcript
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Speaker 1 (00:01):
Good evening, and welcome to Rest, your sanctuary for peaceful
sleep and relaxation. Whether you're escaping daily stresses or seeking
a nightly companion, you're in the right place. My name
is Jessica, and I'll be your host this evening. Before

(00:27):
we begin, why don't you turn off your screens and
turn down your volume. Now that's done, let's unwind and
help you ease into a blessed rest. Not so long ago,

(00:57):
mis was a cat who believed he all already understood
what home meant, warm blankets, quiet afternoons, and a family
he had waited his whole life to find. And when
Daisy tumbled into that home with her clumsy paws and

(01:18):
sunshine spirit, Miso learned something new. Sometimes family grows in unexpected, noisy,
wiggly ways. Now the two of them share days filled
with play, chases down the hallway, naps in sunlit cornice,

(01:41):
and nights curled together when thunder shakes the sky. But
today something is different. The world outside has turned white,
the air smells of pine and cinnamon, and Emily and
Jacob keep whispering a word Miso has never quite understood Christmas.

(02:08):
This is the next chapter in Miso's journey a story
of snowflakes, glowing trees, and one very curious cat trying
to understand the magic of his first Christmas with Daisy
by his side. And though he doesn't know it yet,

(02:32):
this Christmas will show Miso something he's never felt before,
that sometimes the greatest gifts aren't wrapped at all. It's
cold outside, the windows shine with frost, and the air

(02:54):
puffs out in white clouds. I sit on the window
set and watch the snowfall. The flakes drift down slowly,
soft and silent, until the world is covered in a
blanket of white. But inside it is warm. The fire

(03:18):
crackles in the fireplace pop pop pop, and the soft
blankets on the couch are piled high. Emily always tucks
one around me when she sits down, as though I
am a king in my castle. I have my chair,

(03:41):
my sunny spots, and my bowl that is always filled.
Daisy does not sit still like I do. Daisy bounces,
Daisy zooms, Daisy wiggles and sniffs and twirls in sid
circles until she tumbles over her own paws. She is

(04:05):
excited today more than usual. Her ears perk at the
jingling music on the radio, and she tries to chase
the sounds, pawing at the air. Emily and Jacob are
bustling about. They carry in boxes, heavy ones that smell

(04:26):
of cedar and dust. They laugh and hum, their voices
weaving together with the music. It's Christmas soon. Emily says,
her cheeks pink from the cold. Jacob sets down the
boxes with a thump, thump, brushing snow from his coat. Christmas.

(04:53):
They say the word often, like it's something grand Daisy's
tail wags when when ever she hears it, though I'm
not sure she knows what it means. She leaps at
Emily's legs, she noses Jacob's hands, She spins around in
dizzy circles. I watch her. She doesn't remember the nights

(05:18):
of rain and thunderstorms. To her, life has always been
full of warmth and laughter and meals that come at
the same time every day. I am happy. Daisy is happy.
Her joy spills over like a tipped bowl, messy and loud.

(05:43):
But sometimes it does make my whiskers twitch. I am
not sure about this Christmas thing. It makes the humans
hurry and shatter, It makes Daisy dance like a leaf
caught in the wind. What is so special about it?

(06:03):
The blankets are the same, the fire is the same.
Emily still scratches under my chin in the way that
makes my eyes close, slow and heavy. Jacob still calls me,
king me so when he passes, giving my head a

(06:24):
small pat. But still something is different. I can feel
it in the way Emily hums when she hangs shiny
things on the walls. I can feel it in the
way Jacob pulls Daisy close and rubs her floppy ears.

(06:45):
Their voices are soft, warm, like the glow of the fire.
I flick my tail, swish, swish. Perhaps I will see
what this Christmas really is. I curl into the blanket,

(07:06):
my paws tucked under me, my pur rolling like a
small drum. Daisy tumbles across the rug, chasing the edge
of ribbon that slipped from one of the boxes. She
growls at it, a tiny, playful growl, and then yips

(07:28):
when it slips away. The snow keeps falling outside. The
house is full of warmth and sound and light, and
I miso am watching, suspicious, yes, curious always. I want

(07:51):
to know what this Christmas is all about. I am
warm and heavy with milk. My belly is round, and
my paws are tucked under me like little cushions. I
dream of sun patches and soft blankets. The world is

(08:15):
quiet except for the faint hum of the fire and
the tick top of the clock. Then pounce, a weight
lands on me, and my eyes fly open. Daisy, of course,
her tongue is wet, her paws are clumsy, and her

(08:39):
tail thumps like a drum. She wiggles and yips, her
nose pressed into my fur. Up me, so up, up,
she seems to say. I groan and flick my tail
across her nose, but easy does not take hints. Daisy

(09:03):
never takes hints. And then I hear it. The door
creaks open, cold air rushes in. Emily and Jacob stumble
through the doorway, their cheeks red from the wind, their
arms full of something tall and green and quite strange.

(09:27):
A tree, A tree inside the house. I leap to
the window sill and stare. The tree is huge, its
top brushing the ceiling. Its branch is wide and prickly.
It smells sharp, not soft, like the cherry blossoms I

(09:50):
remember from long ago. It smells of pine and snow
and the cold forest outside. Daisy wags so hard she
nearly topples over. She barks and spins, trying to sniff
the tree from every angle. Her joy bounces off the walls. I, however,

(10:17):
am still. I study, I watch, and then it comes
to me. Are finally now I understand what Christmas is.
Christmas is when humans bring home a tree for me,

(10:37):
my very own climbing tree. I pad closer, tail, swish, swish,
eyes wide. The trunk is thick and scratchy beneath my paws.
I test it, scritch, scritch, and oh, yes, this is good.

(11:03):
I stretch higher, pour over, poor until I am half
way up. Daisy leaps below me, barking encouragement. Look at
me so Emily laughs, setting down a box. He thinks
it's his tree. Of course, it's my tree. Who else's

(11:28):
would it be? Soon? Jacob and Emily are hanging shiny
things from the branches ornaments. They call them red balls,
silver bells, golden stars. They dangle and sparkle, swaying like

(11:49):
delicious prey, just waiting to be caught. I swat one, tap,
it swings. I swat again, tap tap. The shiny ball wobbles,
then plunk. It falls to the floor, rolling across the rug.

(12:12):
Daisy pounces, sliding after it with her paws skitter skittering.
She bats it back toward me, like we are playing
some strange game. My whiskers twitch, my tail flicks. I
pounce too. Their house explodes with chaos. Daisy yaps, ornaments

(12:38):
roll like marbles, and tinsel clings to my fur, sparkling
against my whiskers. I leap higher, batting at the dangling shapes,
while Daisy bounces below, barking and wagging and nipping at
anything that moves. The tree shivers, it wobbles, it tilts

(13:05):
just slightly, like a ship in a storm. Emily gasps,
Jacob plunges together. They steady it, laughing so hard they
can barely hold on. Oh me, so, Emily says, between giggles,

(13:26):
you really do think this is your climbing tree. Jacob
shakes his head, brushing tinsel from Daisy's ears, and Daisy
thinks it's her toy box. I freeze, caught in the
middle of branches and lights, tinsel trailing from my poor

(13:49):
I wait for scolding, I wait for stern voices, but
none come. Instead, Emily broaks my back gently, her smile warm.
Jacob ruffles Daisy's fur, laughing again as she licks his hand.

(14:11):
The air is full of lightness, brighter than the ornaments,
warmer than the fire. And then Jacob flips a small
switch and the tree glows. Lights twinkle across the branches,

(14:32):
tiny stars in red and green and gold. They shimmer
on the glass, sparkle on the ornaments, cast soft glows
across the walls. The whole room shimmers. The whole room

(14:52):
feels alive. I blink, slow and wide. I have never
seen anything like it. It is not like the cherry blossoms,
soft and sweet and pink against the spring sky. This
is sharper, brighter, more dazzling. The smell is different, The

(15:19):
touch is prickly, but it hums with life in its
own way. Daisy sits beside me now, her tongue lolling,
her tail sweeping across the rug. She gazes at the lights,
her eyes wide with wonder. For once she is quiet.

(15:44):
I settle on a lower branch, pores tucked eyes on
the glow. My pur rises, steady and low, filling the
room with its rumble. Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps Christmas
is not only about climbing trees and batting ornaments. Perhaps

(16:09):
it is about this warm laughter, gentle hands, glowing lights
that make even the darkest cornice shine. The tree is
not mine alone, it is for all of us. I
sigh long and soft, and hop down to the rug.

(16:35):
Daisy bumps her head against mine, clumsy but kind. Emily
smiles at us, her eyes shining as brightly as the tree. Yes,
I think, curling into the blanket at Emily's feet. Yes,

(16:56):
this Christmas thing is magical. And with the glow of
the tree filling the room, I close my eyes, my
pur and Daisy's happy sighs weaving together into the quietest song.

(17:16):
Snow white, cold, soft. It falls outside the window in
endless flakes, twirling and spinning, like little feathers dropped from
the sky. I watch from my throne chair, tail rap

(17:37):
neatly around me, whiskers twitching at every swell. Daisy bounces
at the window, her paws tap tap on the glass,
her tail a blur out out out, she seems to say.

(17:58):
I shake my head out into that cold fluff. My
paws would freeze, my whiskers would stiffen. No, thank you.
The fire is warm, The blanket is softer. I will
stay here, but Daisy does not give up. Daisy never

(18:23):
gives up. She runs to me, paws clumsy on the rug,
nose pressed to my fur. She tugs at my ear.
She barks at the door. She spins in wild, dizzying circles.
Emily laughs. She wants you to come with her. Mis

(18:48):
I blink slowly, very slowly. Surely they cannot mean it.
Surely no one expects me to put my paws into
that freezing white stuff. But the next moment the door opens, creak,

(19:10):
and the world tilts. Cold air rushes in, sharp and crisp.
Daisy darts outside, pours vanishing into the snow. She yips
and bounces, sending sprays of white flying. Then she looks

(19:31):
back at me, waiting. I sigh long and loud, and
step outside. Oh it is worse than I imagined. The
snow is wet and shocking against my pads. I lift

(19:52):
one paw, then another, then another, tiptoeing as if the
ground itself is alive. Daisy barks and rolls and runs,
her ears flying, her joy spilling across the yard. I
twitch my tail, uncertain. Then something touches my nose. A snowflake, soft, cool, tiny.

(20:25):
It melts In an instant, I blink up. More flakes fall, hundreds, thousands,
the whole sky full of them. They drift and twirl
and sparkle. I reach up with a paw, chasing the

(20:46):
flakes as they tumble. One lands on my whisker, another
on my ear. Daisy barks in delight and leaps beside me,
snapping at the air. I run, I leap, I swat,

(21:07):
and suddenly I am laughing inside the way cats laugh
with a flick of the tail and a gleam in
the eyes. My pores press patterns into the snow, little
trails of art across the white canvas. Daisy's prints mix

(21:29):
with mine, her big paw marks overlapping my smaller ones.
Together they look like a map of our joy. We
tumble and play until our fur is damp and our
whiskers drip. Then Emily's voice calls us in. Warmth spills

(21:53):
from the door, towels soft hands a mug of cocoas
in her grasp she rubs Daisy dry, then me, wrapping
us in blankets. Jacob shakes his head, smiling at our
snowy whiskers. Snow cats and snow dogs, he says. I

(22:20):
curl up in my towel, purring warm again. Snow is
not so bad, I decide, not when Daisy is there,
not when home waits. At the end. The next day,
the air is different, sweet, rich, delicious. The smell drifts

(22:47):
from the kitchen, curling through every room. My nose twitches,
my pores move before my mind does. Up onto the counter,
soft as whispers, cookies round, golden and waiting. Emily hums

(23:12):
as she shapes them, her hands dusted with flour. Daisy
sits on the floor, tail wag wag wagging, nose tilted
up to the tray. I creep closer, one step, two steps,
a whisker away. The cookies are so close now, their

(23:38):
smell wraps around me, warm and sugary. My poor lifts
just one tiny touch and then crash. The flower bowl tips.
A puff of white explodes, drifting everywhere, like in or snow.

(24:01):
It clings to my fur, It clings to my whiskers,
It clings to Daisy, who has jumped up on her hind,
legs wagging so hard she bumps the counter. Emily spins,
her eyes go wide for a moment, I freeze, flower coated,

(24:25):
caught like a thief. Daisy sneezes, sending another puff into
the air. The room is a mess, poor prince in
flower tails, dusted white noses twitching with crumbs. And then

(24:46):
Emily laughs. She laughs so hard she leans back against
the counter, wiping her eyes. Oh me, so, she says, Oh, Daisy,
what am I going to do with you two? She

(25:06):
wipes us gently, shaking her head, still smiling. Then she
breaks off a tiny, safe piece of something just for us,
not too sweet, not too big. She sets it down here,
your own treat. Daisy gobbles hers tail a blur. I

(25:32):
sniff mine, cautious, then nibble. It melts soft and warm
on my tongue. Not fish, not milk, but not bad.
I sit tall flower, still clinging to my fur like frosting.

(25:54):
Daisy licks her nose, happy as always. Emily leans close,
stroking us both her hands, warm and kind. The kitchen
sparkles with sugar and light. The air hums with laughter,

(26:15):
and I think to myself, snow outside, cookies inside. Yes,
this Christmas thing is not so bad after all. The
tree sparkles in the corner of the room. Lights twinkle

(26:37):
like tiny stars caught in its branches. Shiny ornament dangle
and sway whenever Daisy's tail swishes too close. The smell
of pine drifts all around, sharp and strange, but somehow comforting,

(26:58):
like the forest is living inside our house. Emily and
Jacob sit together on the couch, smiling. They have little
boxes wrapped in shiny paper. They laugh as they hand
them back and forth. Each time they say the words

(27:21):
Merry Christmas, their faces glow brighter than the lights on
the tree. I think it must be a magic word,
because the whole room feels warmer when they speak it.
Daisy is wagging so hard I'm surprised she doesn't fall over.

(27:44):
She spins in circles, her poor skittering on the rug,
then stops right in front of me. Her mouth holds
something squeaky and slobbery. Oh no, it's her favorite toy,
the green squeaky bone she guards like treasure. She drops

(28:08):
it at my paws. I blink, I sniff. It is
definitely slobbery. Daisy sits tall tail, thumping, eyes shining. She
nudges the toy closer with her nose, a gift she

(28:30):
seems to say, I look at her, I look at
the toy. I look back at her again. She is serious,
she is giving me her treasure. My whiskers twitch, my
ears flick, my chest feels warm. I don't have ribbons

(28:57):
or shiny boxes. I don't have squeaky toys, but I
do have me. So I curl close beside her, slowly, gently,
I place my paw on top of hers. Her tail
drums happily against the rug. Emily gasps, Oh, Jacob, look

(29:25):
at them, she whispers. Jacob chuckles, deep and warm. Best
Christmas ever, he says. Emily bends down to tuck another
box under the tree. I creep closer, whiskers twitching. The

(29:48):
boxes shine with paper that crinkles when I pour at it.
What strange toys? Humans unwrap them and smile at what
is inside. But I know the truth. The box is
the best part. I climb halfway onto one, circling until

(30:12):
I find the perfect spot to sit. Emily laughs softly.
See Jacob, he likes the box better than the gift.
Of course I do. Boxes are nice. Boxes are warm?
Boxes are where secrets hide. Daisy knowses another package, but

(30:39):
she isn't gentle like me. She tugs off the ribbon
with one big pull of her teeth. Emily gasps, then
laughs again. Guess Daisy couldn't wait. Jacob scratches behind her ears.
Merry Christmas, silly pup. The room smells different, now, rich

(31:06):
and warm. Something is cooking in the kitchen, something buttery
and sweet. My nose twitches, pulling in every cent. I
smell meat, I smell bread, I smell cinnamon. My mouth

(31:30):
waters eye, me ow hopefully, but Emily only shakes her head.
Not for you, me so, But don't worry. I've got something.
She sets down a tiny saucer of creamy milk, frothy

(31:50):
at the edges. My ears perk, my pores pat the floor.
I lap it up, purring loud enough that Daisy tilts
her head. She wants some too, but Jacob offers her
a special biscuit shaped like a bone. For a moment,

(32:11):
the house is quiet, just Daisy crunching and me slurping. Outside,
snow taps softly at the windows. The world turned white inside,
the lights glow warmer and brighter, wrapping us all in

(32:35):
their soft shine. The laughter starts again as Emily and
Jacob open their gifts. Paper rustles ribbons fall, Emily holds
up something sparkly. Jacob pulls on a soft scarf. Their
faces light up with joy. I stretch out on the rug,

(33:01):
paws tucked under, daisy tail curling around her side. She
sighs content and leans into me. The fire crackles, the
tree jingles when an ornament swings. The room feels full

(33:23):
of light, of worms, of something bigger than I can name.
I close my eyes. I do not really know what
Christmas is, but I know this. Christmas is Emily's soft

(33:43):
laugh when she sees us snuggled. Christmas is Jacob's strong
hand scratching behind my ears. Christmas is Daisy giving me
her favorite squeaky toy and not asking for it back.
Christmas is lights that twinkle like stars, and a tree

(34:07):
that is not for climbing, but for looking. Christmas is warmth,
even when the world outside is cold. Christmas is home.
I think of the alley where I used to sleep.

(34:28):
The nights were long and the ground was hard. My
belly was often empty. No lights, no laughter, no squeaky toys,
only shadows, only silence. But tonight is different. Tonight I

(34:51):
have a couch, a fire, a tree, a family, tonight,
I am not alone. Daisy, loud, waggy, silly Daisy is
pressed against me like she belongs there. Maybe she does,

(35:16):
Maybe I do too. I open one eye. Emily has
wrapped a blanket around herself and Jacob. They lean close, smiling.
Daisy snores a little soft and squeaky like her toy.

(35:39):
The fire hums low, the tree sparkles bright. I close
my eyes again. I don't really know what Christmas is,
but I like it. This Christmas. I have a family.

(36:02):
This Christmas, I have a home. This Christmas, I have
a best friend. I hope tomorrow is Christmas too, and
the day after and the day after that.

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Miso and Daisy's First Christmas - A Cozy Bedtime Story for Adults

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