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The Life and Times of Ms. Texas Belle, Mini-Dachshund Extraordinaire

T'WAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS...

I am sending real Christmas cards to friends and relatives, but I received this yesterday and decided to make it my Christmas Email Card. It is appropriate for any country, nationality, and branch of the military services.

T'WAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS


T'was the night before Christmas,
He lived all alone,
In a one bedroom house,
Made of plaster and stone.


I had come down the chimney,
With presents to give,
And to see just who,
In this home did live.

I looked all about,
A strange sight I did see,
No tinsel, no presents,
Not even a tree.

No stocking by the mantle,
Just boots filled with sand,
On the wall hung pictures,
Of far distant lands.

With medals and badges,
Awards of all kinds,
A sober thought,
Came through my mind.

For this house was different,
It was dark and dreary,
I found the home of a soldier,
Once I could see clearly.

The soldier lay sleeping,
Silent, alone,
Curled up on the floor,
In this one bedroom home.

The face was so gentle,
The room in such disorder,
Not how I pictured,
A Brave Gallant soldier.


Was this the hero,
Of whom I'd just read?,
Curled up on a poncho,
The floor for a bed?


I realized the families,
That I saw this night,
Owed their lives to these soldiers,
Who were willing to fight.


Soon round the world,
The children would play,
And grownups would celebrate,
A bright Christmas Day.


They all enjoyed freedom,
Each month of the year,
Because of the soldiers,
Like the one lying here.


I couldn't help wonder,
How many lay alone,
On a cold Christmas Eve,
In a land far from home.


The very thought brought
A tear to my eye,
I dropped to my knees,
And started to cry.

The soldier awakened,
And I heard a rough voice,
'Santa, don't cry.
This life is my choice.

I fight for freedom,
I don't ask for more,
My life is my God,
My country, my corps.'

The soldier rolled over,
And drifted to sleep,
I couldn't control it,
I continued to weep.

I kept watch for hours,
So silent and still,
And we both shivered,
From the cold night's chill.

I didn't want to leave,
On that cold, dark night,
This guardian of honor,
So willing to fight.

Then the soldier rolled over,
With a voice, soft and pure,
Whispered, 'Carry on Santa,
It's Christmas Day, all is secure.'

One look at my watch,
And I knew he was right,
'Merry Christmas my friend,
And to all a good night.'

This poem was written by a peace keeping soldier stationed overseas.

THE BIG WEINER DOG RACE.............NOT!!!

I'M SO EXCITED!!!

It's RACE DAY, and we leave in less than an hour. Mummy hasn't even gotten out of her jammies yet, and I keep telling her to hurry up!

Did I say I was excited??

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Yes, those were the words I wrote last Saturday morning, the 26th of January. I had grandiose visions of the races at Ascot, and was very excited at how my day would unfold.

Hoomans. I shall never understand them. Here is a brief account of my afternoon at the races, as I described it to my FUNDAWGS in my group Dawgs Just Wanna Have Fun...

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Where in the WORLD do hoomans come from???

The Queen Mum got me all excited this morning, telling me we were going out for a car ride with Daddy Pete's Dad, and that I was going to see some handsome young hockey players and some fellow doxies.

I was still excited when we arrived at this huge building just as hoomans were singing Oh Canada . Oh Boy. Oh Dawg. There were lots of both...little boys and girls wanting to pat me, and of course I stand erect and look majestic, giving the little furless ones a thrill when I throw in a lick or two. And lots of doxies arriving, little ones, fat ones, skinny ones, curly ones, wire-haired ones...

No familiar smell yet of my beloved Thoroughbred horses...

I was getting a bit suspicious when I did not see any royalty, just commoners actually touching me...a few I know and am polite to, but...I AM the Queen, and must maintain my dignity.

I was carried down a huge flight of stairs to a closed glass wall where there was a lot of noise, horns, whistles, people yelling, and this weird sound I couldn't quite identify coming from the ice (skates scraping on ice). It was cold, and I was not amused.

Just as Mummy took me close to the glass to see what the noise was, BANG CRASH... ...two young men in different coloured clothes with sticks flying up and hitting the glass came crashing into the glass right in front of us! Even Mummy jumped and yelped, 'cuz we sure weren't expecting THAT!
Daddy Pete laughed and said something about a cross check...well, I don't know what a 'check' is, but it sure sounded CROSS!

THEN....
DP and Mummy and the rest of the dawgs and hoomans were told to go onto the ice. DP was holding me, 'cuz Mummy was supposed to go to the FAR END of this icy surface with other hoomans. She almost went flying the first step she took!!! (Mummy and ice DO NOT get along...) The hoomans at the far end waited patiently while Mummy took baby steps the whole way down the ice. I couldn't even look at her I was so embarassed...not MY Mum I was telling the other weinies.

There was this young teenager on the ice announcing to the crowd that the race was about to start, and the 'weiner dogs' were supposed to RUN the entire distance of the arena to their Mom or Dad, whoever decided to be at that end.

PPPPPULLLLLLLLLLLLLEASE!!!! The Queen RUN? with a bunch of commoners? Heck, Mummy could come to ME for heavens sake, I was not going to run all that way to see HER. I see her at home all the time! And it was much more exciting at my end with these two big zamboni machines and nice new people I had met!

So, I turned and walked out.

Not once, not twice, but THREE times. DP kept coming after me and saying go see Mummy! while he squeaked Pinky. Is he mad? I had him, I had Pinky....I had the zambonis...

And the race was over, anyway....