‘Twas The Night Before Christmas (Dog Version)
’twas the Night Before Christmas (dog version)
It was about time for Christmas, and all through the house
A creature was stirring, but it wasn’t a mouse
I knew right away it was my wife’s little pup,
She thought we were sleeping, and so she was up
The dog was a gift it was coercion, really,
A woman can pout, ’til a man gets downright silly.
And now the wife was snoozing she was really sacked out
She wouldn’t have awoke from less than a shout.
Yes, her in her nightgown, I in my BVDs,
We had finally settled down to catch some Zs
When off in the kitchen there arose such a clatter,
I rolled from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away down the hall, my head in a muddle,
I reached the kitchen…and stepped in a puddle.
The glow from a nightlight illuminated the room,
So how come I stumbled over the broom?
I fell in a sprawl, my legs were not stable.
On the way down, my nose hit the table.
My head was a spinnin’ and when I came to rest
Four miniature dog feet stood on my chest.
With a lick and a bark, she bounded away,
Into the living room, she ran to play.
More rapid than mouses, that rat terrier ran,
Me on the follow, rolled newspaper in hand.
“Stop, Skeeter! Stop, Dog! Stop, Pup!
Halt, Pooch! Halt, Girl! Oh, come’ere, you mutt!
“Get off the new couch! Now let go of that curtain!
Ohhh…If I ever catch you, you’re gonna’ be hurtin'”
As winds of a Texas tornado do fly,
She spun round the room, down low and up high.
Then up on the countertop, that puppy went
She stopped for a second. I thought she was spent.
I make a quick lunge, she ducked me and then
Yawned when I dove through the flour bin.
As I drew out my head and was turning around,
She made for the presents, in a single bound.
I was covered with flour, from my head to my toes,
My robe in tatters, and blood on my nose.
A bag full of toys, she grabbed with glee
I nabbed her, I thought, but instead got the tree.
The ornaments, they broke, as they began to fall
The lights, how they fizzled, and that is not all.
When I reached for the plug, to turn the bulbs out,
What flowed through my body, but electricity, so stout!
As smoke encircled my head like a wreath,
That dog held my big toe, tight in her teeth.
“Skeeter,” I moaned, “I give up. Oh, Skeet, I give in.”
So she bit my swollen nose, and nipped at my chin.
She spoke not a word, but went back to work,
Down came the stockings it took just a jerk.
Then up from the hall, came the sound of feet,
Momma, it seemed was awake from her sleep.
“Now you’ll get it pup,” I announced with glee.
Then Skeeter walked over and put her little head on my knee.
She looked up at my wife – so innocent – and at me, so, so sad.
And it didn’t take long, to know I’d been had.
Then came the wife’s voice, so strong and so clear,
“Bill, you leave that puppy alone! You hear!”
And I exclaimed to myself, as they walked out with a strut,
“Don’t leave any gifts, Santa just PICK UP THE MUTT!”
‘The night before Christmas’ was written by Bill McClellan