24/12/2024
'Twas the night before Christmas, with all of our pack
Not a Newfie was stirring, not even for snacks.
The stockings were chewed by the chimney with care
In hopes that Saint Nicholas soon would be there.
The puppies were snuggled and tucked in their beds
While visions of dog treats danced in their heads.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter
They sprang from their beds to see what was the matter.
One jumped on the couch, stuck its nose to the curtain
"He’s here!", they barked. "It is him, I'm certain."
It was Santa himself, in a dogsled he flew
The Newfoundlands' tails wagging, somehow they knew.
The dog cookies they left him were by the back door
The puppies ate some, not an hour before.
He petted each puppy.
"Be good, I insist”
They licked him, then run off
to see what they've missed.
He went about his work with never a sigh,
Filling the stockings with dog toys piled high.
The adult dogs sat patiently,
waiting to see
If Santa left new draft and water equipment under the tree.
He said to the Newfies,
sweet and kind in nature are thee,
Theirs is the spirit
that Christmas should be.
Once finished, he left in oh such a rush
Jumped on his dogsled and yelled out, "MUSH!"
The eight Newfie dog team was raring to go.
They hated 'stand stay', especially in the snow.
I could hear him yell out as he disappeared that night,
"Merry Christmas to all! OK team, turn 90° right!”
An adaptation from a dog’s night before Christmas, that was edited for Newfies. Artwork artist unknown.