12/25/2024
’Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
But the puppy was sniffing—was something amiss there?
The humans were hopeful but weary of dread,
While visions of puddles danced in their heads.
When out in the hall there arose a soft yip,
I leapt from my bed and nearly did slip!
Away to the door, I flew like a flash,
Snagging the leash, from its hook with a dash.
The moon on the snow lit the frosty backyard,
As I trudged out barefoot—why is this so hard?
The pup wagged his tail, his eyes big and round,
Then he sniffed and he spun on the cold, frozen ground.
With a sniff and a circle, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment he’d mastered the trick.
More rapid than reindeer his potty dance came,
And I whistled and clapped and called him by name:
“Good boy, little Baxter! Good job, Spot and Rover!
No accidents inside!
The training’s not over!
Keep sniffing, keep circling, keep lifting that leg!
For treats and for belly rubs, you’ve earned every peg!”
He squatted and wiggled, he took his sweet time,
While I whispered, “Please hurry, the clock’s nearly nine!”
And then, in a twinkling, he squatted to go,
Leaving no yellow puddle nor brown in the snow.
I spoke not a word, but went straight to my sack,
Rewarding with treats and a pat on his back.
And laying a finger aside of my nose,
I gave him the signal:
“Back inside we go!”
Back in we hurried, he ran to his bed,
While dreams of no cleanup danced in my head.
As I lay down
From his space came a cheer
“Happy Christmas to all, and no messes inside!”
