Willkommen / Welcome

Willkommen / Welcome
Um Gedichte zu lesen, wähle eine Kategorie (Sidebar rechts). / Select a category to read poems (sidebare right).

Wichtige Informationen / Important information:

Dieser Blog soll nicht nur eine Sammlung sein für alle, die wie ich Gedichte, Texte und einfach alles zum Thema Hund mögen, sondern auch eine Anerkennung für alle Autoren und Künstler, die uns mit ihren Werken große Freude bereiten, manchmal Trost spenden oder uns die Augen öffnen möchten für Missstände.

This blog is not only a collection for all of you who, like me, love poems, texts and simply everything about dogs, it is also intended to give recognition to all authors and artists who with their work give us great pleasure, sometimes solace and who also want to open our eyes to the abuse and neglect of animals.

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Ausgenommen meine eigenen Arbeiten, unterliegen alle in dieser Sammlung veröffentlichten Gedichte, Zitate, Geschichten etc. dem Urheberrecht des jeweiligen Verfassers. Leider ist mir dieser in den wenigsten Fällen bekannt. Ich möchte mich bei allen Autoren entschuldigen, die ich nicht namentlich erwähnt habe. Ich arbeite daran, die Autoren zu finden. Wer hier einen eigenen Text findet, dem wäre ich für eine Nachricht dankbar. Ich werde dann einen entsprechenden Hinweis (und/oder Link) ergänzen oder den Text umgehend entfernen.
Das Urheberrecht für meine eigenen Texte, Fotos und selbst erstellten Grafiken liegt allein bei mir. Kopieren oder jegliche Art von Weitergabe oder Veröffentlichung ist untersagt.

Copyright for all published poems, stories, quotes belongs to the respective author. Usually I don’t know the authors of the material and I would like to apologize to any authors who I don’t mention. I’m working to find the writers. If you do find your own work here, I would be grateful for an appropriate message. Then I’ll add a note (and/or a link) or will remove the text immediately. I look forward to hearing from you.
Copyright for my own writings, photos and graphics: Isa of Mayflower. Copying, spreading or any type of publication is prohibited.

2015/12/01

'Twas the night before Christmas (3)

'Twas the night before Christmas
I've found many canine versions of this Holiday classic – here one of the variants.
 
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It was about time for Christmas, and all through the house
A creature was stirring, but it wasn't a mouse.
I knew right away it was my wife's little pup,
She thought we were sleeping, and so she was up.

The dog was a gift it was coercion, really,
A woman can pout, 'til a man gets downright silly.
And now the wife was snoozing she was really sacked out
She wouldn't have awoke from less than a shout.

Yes, her in her nightgown, I in my BVDs,
We had finally settled down to catch some Zs.
When off in the kitchen there arose such a clatter,
I rolled from the bed to see what was the matter.

Away down the hall, my head in a muddle,
I reached the kitchen ... and stepped in a puddle.
The glow from a nightlight illuminated the room,
So how come I stumbled over the broom?

I fell in a sprawl, my legs were not stable.
On the way down, my nose hit the table.
My head was a spinnin' and when I came to rest
Four miniature dog feet stood on my chest.

With a lick and a bark, she bounded away,
Into the living room, she ran to play.
More rapid than mouses, that rat terrier ran,
Me on the follow, rolled newspaper in hand.

"Stop, Skeeter! Stop, Dog! Stop, Pup!
Halt, Pooch! Halt, Girl! Oh, come'ere, you mutt!
"Get off the new couch! Now let go of that curtain!
Ohhh ... If I ever catch you, you're gonna' be hurtin'."

As winds of a Texas tornado do fly,
She spun round the room, down low and up high.
Then up on the countertop, that puppy went
She stopped for a second. I thought she was spent.

I make a quick lunge, she ducked me and then
Yawned when I dove through the flour bin.
As I drew out my head and was turning around,
She made for the presents, in a single bound.

I was covered with flour, from my head to my toes,
My robe in tatters, and blood on my nose.
A bag full of toys, she grabbed with glee
I nabbed her, I thought, but instead got the tree.

The ornaments, they broke, as they began to fall
The lights, how they fizzled, and that is not all.
When I reached for the plug, to turn the bulbs out,
What flowed through my body, but electricity, so stout!

As smoke encircled my head like a wreath,
That dog held my big toe, tight in her teeth.
"Skeeter," I moaned, "I give up. Oh, Skeet, I give in."
So she bit my swollen nose, and nipped at my chin.

She spoke not a word, but went back to work,
Down came the stockings it took just a jerk.
Then up from the hall, came the sound of feet,
Momma, it seemed was awake from her sleep.

"Now you'll get it pup," I announced with glee.
Then Skeeter walked over and put her little head on my knee.
She looked up at my wife - so innocent - and at me, so, so sad.
And it didn't take long, to know I'd been had.

Then came the wife's voice, so strong and so clear,
"Bill, you leave that puppy alone! You hear!"
And I exclaimed to myself, as they walked out with a strut,
"Don't leave any gifts, Santa just PICK UP THE MUTT!" 
 
(Bill McClellan)

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