December 8th 2011 7:08 pm
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This was written yesterday but I didn't get a chance to post it until today.
It was 18 days before Christmas and all through the house
Scooter was sleeping just like a mouse.
The stockings weren’t hung because no one cared,
There was little hope that St. Nicholas would soon be there.
Most dogs were all nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of MEATZ danced in their heads.
Puffy in his jammies, and I in my party dress,
Had just come in from talking to the press.
When outside our tent there arose such a clatter,
We sprung from our sleeping bag to see what was the matter.
Away to the flap we flew like a flash,
Got tangled up in the zipper and tripped over the trash.
The moon on the breast of the fog in the city,
made it hard to see clearly objects as they looked all gritty.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But Red Sheingold, a sleigh and eight big dogs with tears.
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment Red must have kidnapped St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
As Red whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
Now Huey! Now, Demon! Now, Mackie and Lobo!
On, Chester! On Finnigan! On, on Ella and Hobo!
To the top of the hill! To the top of the mall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!
As wet leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of stuffies and kidnapped St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the lawn
The dancing and pawing and one great big yawn.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Red came stomping over with a bound.
He was dressed very causally, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all covered in various goops that stayed put.
A bundle of stuffies he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.
His eyes were runny and no they did not twinkle!
His cheeks and nose were red and looked wrinkled.
His droll little mouth was set in a frown,
And he demanded to know when Occupy Dogster would die down.
The stump of a pipe he clinched tight in his teeth,
Probably saved me from hearing insults he mumbled underneath.
He was tall and thin, no sign of a round belly,
I was wishing he brought me some MEATZ from the deli.
What can I say but he was crabby and gruff,
and it made me wonder if it was all a bluff!
But a glare from his eyes and a twist of his head,
Gave me reason to know I had everything to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And throwing down the stuffies, and tuned with a jerk.
Then he raised one hand and then slapped his knee,
said there will be no MEATZ this year from me.
With that he sprang to the sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew faster than a missile.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
I made my millions so this isn’t my fight.
I learned through the grapevine that St. Nicholas was released,
He said something about he’d be calling the police.
And for the Dogster members this holiday season,
There’s not any MEATZ and we want to know the reason.
NOTE: Names were changed to protect those who might not want to be named - BOL, BOL
I'm a reindeer-dog? Cool!Does Red need a bite on his butt? Hmm.... I don't bite, but I can be intimidating.
Chester with a black shiny nose
Great work! Very creative!
I snore just like a mouse too! BOL
Zoe barked earlier there was Meatz™ again. How cool is that our March n Bark was heard at HQ. But I'd published my entry today as well on no Meatz™
I mean Pepper had published her entry earlier.
And I must say your rendition is better than my sister Misty's, IMHO
Glad the MEATZ are back! Thanks for the update!
Fank you Coco. I wove being in yur poem. It were a bery gud poem tu. Yu r bery talented, or mabe it r yur momma dat helped yu wrte it. Bud who eber wrot it do nod madder, it r gud.
Pawsome job on the poem!
OMD, Coco Wose!! How I miss dis?? It r P-A-W-S-U-M! Yu hab da giff ob cweatibity an' wanguage skillses! WOW :D