People ask me what Christmas is like here…. well… here is a story from Branwen’s point of view… she can be a bit cranky when she is woke up… LOL
'Twas the night before Christmas, Branwen laying under the holly,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a collie;
The stinky stockings were hung way up in the air,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The collies were nestled all snug in their blanket beds,
While visions of dog bones danced in their heads;
And Hallie in her blankie, and Trevor on his master's lap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
Branwen sprang to her feet to see what was the matter.
Away to the window she flew like a flash,
Tore down the drapes and looked out and gasped.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave lustre to Branwen's fur as she looked down below,
When, what to her angry eyes should appear,
But a gaudy sleigh, and eight stinkin reindeer,
With a little fat driver, moving way too quietly and quick,
She knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than horses his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
Branwen licked her chops imagining a reindeer fry,
How good they would taste with bacon on the side,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and that stinking St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, she heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
She then bared her teeth and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his fat head to his foot,
And this slob's clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a thief just opening his pack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry.... yummy!
His crooked little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the fur on his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the stinky smoke it circled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a sloppy fat belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly... yummy.
He was chubby and plump, a evilly happy stinky old elf,
And Branwen growled when she saw him, she wanted to bite this elf;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon Branwen wanted to bite him dead;
she wanted to sleep, but couldn't because of this jerk,
he filled all the stockings; then turned done with his work,
As Branwen bit him on the side of his nose,
screaming out loud, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But Branwen laid down to sleep as he drove out of sight,
That will teach that stupid elf to disturb me at night.
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Santa needs to come in the daytime when I am -
in a better mood!!!
Collies Of The Meadow 
LOL I had no idea that Branwen was a poet!! 🙂