‘Twas the night after Christmas, when all through the house
Only one creature was stirring, quiet as a mouse
The dishes were piled by the stovetop with care,
Waiting to be cleaned, and put away all bare;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of nerf-guns danced in their heads.
Mom and dad had gone upstairs, with groggy heads
And had just collapsed to sleep like the dead.
When from downstairs there arose such a clatter
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter
Across the room I flew with a dash,
Tore open the door and saw in a flash
The gate was open and nowhere to be found
Was our puppy dog, the cunning little hound.
I ran down the stairs, I was fearing the worst
Not lessened one bit by this little black burst
A dog running upstairs avoiding my gaze,
Fear clearing my mind of the earlier haze…
I rounded the corner, trembling in fear,
When what to my wondering eyes should appear?
But a turkey roaster no longer up top,
Instead on the floor, fat surrounding its spot.
I will kill you I yelled! You did this last year
You ate smoked salmon, have you nothing you fear?
Mom and dad settled down to clean up the spot,
Wondering how much of our turkey he got,
I swear that I heard, as he skulked out of sight…
“I will do it again! Next year’s Christmas night.”