Our mother had hung all our
stockings with care
They looked rather empty
So we left them right there

When what should our
curious paws see ahead?
but the long sofa table
And MAN WHAT A SPREAD!

There were fine wooden ornaments
that we're told were antique
And bright, silver tinsel
the taste-quite unique

We ate til our tummies
were full and quite sore
we searched for more tinsel
but found little more

Then in through the door
burst our mom (home at last)
She looked at her table
and then was aghast!

"What the *#%& is all this?"
She yelled rather loudly
We'd made QUITE an impression
and thus sat there proudly

Then she tossed us outside
so to survey the carnage
Picked up tinsel for hours
to put in the garbage

And we heard her exclaim
as we watched from outside
"What BAD dogs I have"
This is no lie!