Merry Christmas

A very Merry Christmas to all the two and four legged friends out there across the globe that celebrate this glorious day. May your hearts be warm and filled with love, may you be safe and happy, and in no pain. May you share a special touch on this, the celebration of our Savior Jesus’ birth. Merry Christmas to you all, and to all a good night.

The Night Before Dogmas

‘Twas the night before Dogmus, and all through the pound, not a puppy was yelping or playing around. Our leashes were hung by our kennels with care, in hopes that St> Bernard would soon find us there.

Chihuahuas were curled up all snug in their beds, while visions of doggie treats danced in their heads. Max in his collar, dreaming of someone’s lap, had tucked in his tail for a midwinter’s nap.

When outside the room there arose such a clatter, my ears perked right up to hear what was the matter.

Away to the window I scampered with glee, and barked at the shadows that were cast by the tree.

The glow from the moon changed night into day, and started me thinking, “Woof, woof, time to play.”

When what with my puppy-dog eyes did I see, but a splendid dogsled, led my doggies like me!

With a regal furred driver, commanding, not stern; I yelped to the others, “That must be St. Bern!”

As rapid as greyhounds, our saviors they came, so we barked and we howled and called them by name.

“There’s Duchess! There’s King, Fat Chance, and Bare Buffy! On Fido, On Scooter! On Rover, and Scruffy! Go by the red hydrant and run past those trees! Nothing can stop you, not even some fleas!”

As puppies at play chase after a stick, and race to their masters so lovely and quick, So out in the field his canines all flew, catching the Frisbees the good St. Bernard threw.

And then in an instant I heard at the door the scratching and clawing of each little paw. As I pulled in my nose and was turning around, in through the door St. Bernard came with a bound!

He was dressed all in fur from his head to his tail, and his wooden cask was adorned with an icing of hail. A bag of chew toys he had brought in with him, and his mouth was turned up in what looked like a grin.

His eyes, how they twinkled! His ears flopped, how merry! His coat shown like crystal, his nose like a cherry! His big sloppy mouth was drawn up like a bow, and the fur on his chin was as white as the snow.

The stump of a bone he held tight in his teeth, and his collar encircled his neck like a wreath. He had a large face and furry round belly that shook when he barked, like a bowl full of jelly.

He was fluffy and plump, a big cuddly old pooch, and I laughed when I saw him and gave him a smooch! With wink of his eye and a wag of his tail, we knew right away we’d have homes without fail.

He gave not a howl, but went straight to his deed, and took down the leaches that soon we would need. He opened the door and families stood there, with children, all smiling, and much love to spare.

He leaped to his sled, to his team gave a call, and away they all flew as if chasing a ball. But I heard him exclaim, as he chewed on his bone:

“HAPPY DOGMUS TO ALL AND ALL TO A GOOD HOME!”

Rules for Non-Pet Owners Who Visit

TO NON-PET OWNERS who visit my home and complain about my pets.

1) They live here, you don't.

2) If you don't want their hair on your clothes, stay off the furniture. That's why they call it 'Fur'-niture. 3) Chances are, I love my pets more than I like you.

4) To you, my pets are just animals, but to me they are an adopted son/daughter who happen to be hairy, walks on all fours, and who doesn’t speak clearly.

5.) A home without pet hair is not a home at all.

The Cab Ride

I arrived at the address and honked the horn, after waiting a few minutes I walked to the door and knocked... 'Just a minute', answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.

After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90's stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940's movie. By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.

There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.

'Would you carry my bag out to the car?' she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, and then returned to assist the woman.

She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept thanking me for my kindness. 'It's nothing', I told her... 'I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.'

'Oh, you're such a good boy, she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, 'Could you drive through downtown?' 'It's not the shortest way,' I answered quickly...

'Oh, I don't mind,' she said. 'I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice.

I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. 'I don't have any family left,' she continued in a soft voice... 'The doctor says I don't have very long.' I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.

'What route would you like me to take?' I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.

Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing. As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, 'I'm tired. Let's go now'.

We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.

Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her.

I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

'How much do I owe you?' She asked, reaching into her purse.

'Nothing,' I said

'You have to make a living,' she answered.

'There are other passengers,' I responded.

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.

'You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,' she said.

'Thank you.'

I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light... Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life...

I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift?

What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more important in my life.

We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.

But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

PEOPLE MAY NOT REMEMBER EXACTLY WHAT YOU DID, OR WHAT YOU SAID ~BUT~
THEY WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER HOW YOU MADE THEM FEEL!