Twas the night before Christmas, and Santa was near
but I couldn't hear him, cause Twig drooled in my ear
The pups were all nestled in their warm, soft straw beds
while visions of Grandmom's pancakes danced in my head
Twig freshly bathed
Our bags were all packed (with all of my best ensembles)
Visiting Grandmom for the holiday while Fran helped hold down the fort.
So this poem doesn't really rhyme, except we want to say...
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a Merry Christmas... or somethings (and stuffs)