[Taryn0405]

And all through the house,
Not a Gizmo was stirring,
Not even to chase his ginger bread house.
His stocking was hung on the granite ledge with care,
In hopes that with even being on the naughty list, Santa paws would be fair.
Mr. Gizmo was a snug, in his Cloud 9 bed,
While visions of his girlfriends Phoebe, Rosie, and Sugar, danced in his head.
And Momma is her striped pink robe,
And Daddy in his boxer-briefs,
Tried to fit in the crowded queen bed, praying they'd get some sleep.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I barked at Mom and Dad, so they could figure out what was the matter.
Away to the window, Daddy sauntered, cursing my name in vain,
Because in my heart I knew, the inflatable yard penguin was to blame.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave a lustre to obejcts that could be my foe.
When what to my wandering eyes should appear,
A minature sleigh, and 8 possibly attackable reindeer.
With a little old driver, and I knew just who he was,
None other then that man I've heard of Santa Paws...

I said this to Gizmo last night, when he was staring up at me like this. Couldn't help but take a picture and share!