‗Twas the week before ChristmasA Doggie Tail of a Christmas That Almost Wasn‘t By: Mary and Ginny Edwards (with apologies to Clement Moore)
‗Twas the week beforeChristmas, when allthrough the Edwards‘world, the dogs werestirring plus even asquirrel…
…Because no presents were wrapped, no stockingswere hung. And the thought that St. Nicholas soonwouldn‘t come made the dogs oh so glum.
―What do you think iswrong with our people?It‘s simply not right here.Isn‘t this the Christmastime of the year,‖ Skyeyipped. ―They seem sobusy, they didn‘t even yellat me the last time Ijumped on the table.Maybe they‘ve forgotten.‖
―You think so!‖ whined Butters, visions of richdinner scraps and Christmas cookie crumbs dancingin his head.
―No, not that!‖ barked Frankie. ―I love all thoseChristmas treats that rain down from the counter!‖
Skyesprangfrom thecouch, anideaforming inher mind.Away to thephone, sheflew like aflash, calledup a RadioCab andthrew on asash withFrankiegrabbingsome cash.
Watery sunlight on the breast ofthe fog-shrouded street gave aluster of midnight to the threecanines below.
In no time the cabarrived, with a little olddriver so lively andquick, they knew in amoment he‘d get themthere in a jiff.
More rapid than SUVs, his coursers he zipped.Dodging and zig-zagging amidst laid-back Portlanddrivers, he whistled and shouted and called themnames: Now idiot, now slow-poke, now cellphoneignoramus, dash away, dash away, dash away all!
To the top of Skyline the trio flew. And as dogs whennature calls do, they stopped now and then to meetwith obstacles sniff, pee and poo.
And then in a twinkling, the cabbie heard in the backthe prancing and pawing of each doggie foot for theysaw up ahead, the most beautiful sight – a forest oftrees, ripe to be draped with bright Christmas lights.
And out of the cab theycame with a bound, everyhound dressed all in furfrom the ears to theirtushies.
Butters, a bundle of dog biscuits flung on his back,he looked like a St. Bernard, but just from theback.
Frankie, her eyes how they twinkled, so many thingsto sniff! Her cheeks were like roses, her tongue likea cherry.
Skye, her droll little muzzle was drawn up like abow. And the fur on her face was a white as thesnow. The husk of a ball should have been in herteeth, but, alas, no one to toss it into the heath.
They were like right jolly furry elves and theypanted with excitement, in spite of themselves.They spoke not a word, but went straight to theirsearch. Then all three at once turned with a jerk.