'Twas the night before Christmas, and all was awesome
Not a creature was stirring, not even my possum.
The stockings were hung by my human with care,
In hopes that Bark and Beg treats would be there;
The little humans were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of chewed Webkinzs danced in their heads;
And me in my 'kerchief, and laying in a lap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
When in the kitchen arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the lap to see what was the matter.
Away to the kitchen I flew like a flash,
Tore open the refrig, I thought I smelled hash.
The Christmas ham glistened, like meat covered snow
If I gave it taste, would anyone know?
When, what to my droopy eyes should appear,
But an angry old human, one I don't fear.
With a howl and bark, I grabbed it quick,
And ate it so fast, I thought I'd be sick.
More rapid than beagles the others they came,
like the smell of ham had called them by name;
"Now, Beady Eyes, now Obie, and Trixie dog too
The refrig door is open and it's calling for you
To the top of the freezer! go ahead and climb the wall!
Now gash away! hash away! dash away all!"
As dry heaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
They gagged and hagged and thought they would die,
So out to the yard-top the high grass they flew,
With the half chewed up ham and some bacon bits too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard like a poof
The gagging had stopped like it all was a spoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Out the back door the stupid human came with a bound.
She was dressed with no makeup, not a shoe on her foot,
And her clothes were all tarnished with ham glaze and soot;
A bundle of nerves as she headed out back,
And she looked all crazy while chasing our pack.
Her eyes -- how they blackened and she was not merry!
Her cheeks were all swollen, her upper lip-hairy.
Her great big mouth shooting insults like a bow,
She was mad, she was hot, like we really should know;
That the ham wasn't ours, that we gashed with our teeth,
And the sickness insued in a circle like a wreath;
She said we deserved it if it hurt our belly,
And dogs shouldn't eat things like Christmas ham and jelly
But I'm chubby and plump and I act like an elf,
And wanted that Christmas ham, in spite of myself;
A blink of her eye and a shake of her head,
My ham grab had given what my stomach should dread;
She spoke not a word, but thought hard of her work,
I had eaten in seconds with merely a jerk,
And pointing her finger right at my long nose,
She fussed at me like water from a hose;
Then she sprang to her feet and gave a whistle,
And grabbed her washclothes, mop and Bissell.
And I heard her exclaim as she walked out of sight,
Dogs shoulda eat
dog treats, not my Christmas ham tonight."
I hold bacon sacred. It is religious experience for me really. When stupid human pops open a nice fresh package of PORK bacon, I come under the trance of it.It summons me like a spirit calling my name. It is like my very own spiritual calling. It is the reason I have never been interested in the Jewish faith. I have no problem with Moses, in fact, I find Judaism a beautiful, loving religion, but I find bacon fulfills my spiritual needs more-after all, I am a Basset hound. 
