Posts Tagged ‘christmas’

In my short puppy life the photo here shows how Corky celebrates Christmas 2010. My Christmas 2008 was as a 4 month old orphan dumped on the street.

I was rescued from doggy jail the next month and adopted into my forever home. Christmas in 2009 and now in 2010 have been MUCH happier times!

Shown here is me under our Christmas tree today, 25 December 2010, and I’m holding a stuffed raccoon toy with squeaker. I usually chew new toys apart to remove the squeaker. We call that a squeakerectomy.

I can’t explain why unless maybe I’m just more mature, but I’d rather play with my new toy than chew it open.

Though Christmas is a time to celebrate the birth of the Lord Jesus Christ and for giving gifts, the best gift you can give a dog or cat is giving them a forever home. As you celebrate the Christmas season consider our 4-legged friends being held in animal shelters, and make room in your home and add a rescue pet to the family.

If not for rescue parents, Corky the shelter dog would not have a website with videos and the opportunity to tell his life story. Yes, Christmas is about giving, yet for abandoned pets looking for a home it will be enough if all you can afford is love. Trust me. I know.

Enjoy this audio recording of Twas the Night Before Christmas narrated by Jim Degerstrom who Corky calls “Dad”. The photo to the left is Jim’s Dad reading this story to him when he was a little boy more than 50 years ago!

Listen to this mp3 version recorded today for his grandchildren Hannah and Sarah (and YOU) to enjoy on Christmas eve, plus read along with the full text version by Clement Clarke Moore inserted below. In addition, you may download the Night Before Christmas mp3 and take it with you.

Press right button below to listen. (play time 03:41 min/sec)

PLAY NOW

Twas the Night Before Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer.

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

“Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid! on Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and St Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.

His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!”

Poem written by Clement Clarke Moore (1779-1863)