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Buddy’s Christmas Story – A Visit by St Nick

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the place

not a furkid was stirring, not even Will and Grace.

The stockings were hung on the gates with great care,

in hopes that St Nicholas would soon be there.


The furries were resettled all snug in their beds,

while visions of liver bread treats, danced in their heads.

And Tracy in her shorts and Joanna in her cap,

had just settled down for a rest and perhaps even a nap.


When out on Buddy’s roof there arose such a clatter,

he sprung from his basket to see what was the matter.

Away to the door he dashed without fright,

Pushed it ajar and peered into the night.


The moon danced on the blades of the fresh cut grass,

and gave a sparkle and lustre like new polished brass,

when, what to his wondering eyes should appear,

but a miniature sleigh and eight tiny Bouvier.


With a little old driver, so lively and quick,

Buddy new in a moment it must be St. Nick.

More rapid than beagles, his coursers they came,

And he whistled and shouted and called them by name.

“Now Rocky, ! Now Ricky !

Now, Spencer and Scarlet !

On, Crosby ! On Claudia!

On, Zorro and Charlotte

To the top of the porch !

To the top of the wall !

Now dash away ! Dash away !

Dash away all !


As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

when they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky

So up to the wendy house-top the coursers they flew,

with the sleigh full of doggy treats, and St Nicholas too.


And then in a twinkling, Buddy heard at the door

the prancing and scratching of each little paw.

As he drew in his head and was turning around,

in through the window St Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in red, from his head to his toes,

And his clothes were all covered in dog hair including his nose.

A bundle of brain toys he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.


His eyes – how they twinkled ! His dimples, how merry !

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry !

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

and Buddy saw his beard was as white as snow.

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his fist,

and the white smoke encircled like a vast cloud of mist.

He had a broad face and a little round belly,

and Buddy barked loudly when it shook like a jelly.


He was chubby and plump, like a right little pug,

which made Buddy laugh as he was looking so snug.

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

let little Buddy know he had nothing to dread.


He spoke not a word, but got on with his night,

Filling the stockings with many a yummy delight.

With a nod of his head and a hand on buddy’s back,

he left thro’ the window along with his sack.


He sprung to his sleigh, and on his GPS did enter,

The name and whereabouts of the next doggy centre.

But Buddy heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,

“Happy Christmas all furkids, and to all a good night.”


By Gordon, Trainer