dogsongs

The Twelve Treats of Christmas

On the first day of Christmas, my hoomins gave to me
an apple from under the tree...
(Day 2) ... two rubber kongs
(Day 3) ... three squeaking woobies
(Day 4) ... four rawhide chews
(Day 5) ... five tennis balls
(Day 6) ... six twisty rope tugs
(Day 7) ... seven buster cubes
(Day 8) ... eight flying Frisbees
(Day 9) ... nine nylabones
(Day 10) ... ten cow hoofies
(Day 11) ... eleven flexi-leashes
(Day 12) ... twelve obedience lessons
Now how much did all that cost my master? Click here for the answer.

Fill the Bowls
(to the tune of "Deck the Halls")

Fill our bowls with freeze-dried liver,
Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la!
Watch our noses start to quiver,
Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la!
Please add bits of cheese and bacon,
Fa-la-la, Fa-la-la, la-la-la!
Happy wags our tails are makin',
Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la!

Sniff the gifts and shred the wrapping,
Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la!
'Round the Christmas tree go FRAPping*
Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la!
Swipe a slurp of grandma's eggnog
Fa-la-la, Fa-la-la, la-la-la!
Then relax and be a bedhog
Fa-la-la, Fa-la-la, la-la-la!
(*FRAP = FRenzied Activity Period)

Bark the Christmas Puppy Sings
(to the tune of "Hark the Herald Angels Sing")

"Bark!" the Christmas puppy sings,
Chewing now on Dad's shoestrings.
Running here and running there,
Ripped a hole in Mom's new chair!
Grumpily our hoomins rise, wipe the sleep out of their eyes...
Pup wants "out" at 3 a.m., then at 6 he's up again!
Gosh, we wish that he'd grow up!
Why did they want a Christmas pup?

Blazey the Red-Haired Golden
(to the tune of "Rudolph...")

Blazey the red-haired Golden had a very rusty coat.
and he was sort of pudgy, made the yellow Goldens gloat.
All of the blondie Goldens used to laugh and call him names
They never let poor Blazey join in any Frisbee games.
Then one stormy Christmas Eve, Santa Paws did say:
"Blazey with your fur so red, won't you help me guide my sled"
Then how the Goldens loved him, and they "Roo-Roo'd" out with glee:
"Blazey the red-haired Golden, you deserve a CGC!"

I'm Gettin' Nothin' for Christmas
(to the tune of the hoomin song by the same name)

I chewed big holes in Daddy's socks, somebody snitched on me.
I never heel while on my walks, somebody snitched on me.
I brought my mom a big old bug, then I messed up on the rug,
Look at all the holes I dug! Somebody snitched on me!
Soooo...... I'm gettin' nothin' for Christmas!
Mommy and Daddy are mad!
I'm gettin' nothin' for Christmas!
'Cause I ain't been nothin' but bad!

Tennis Balls
(to the tune of "Silver Bells")

Flying Frisbees, kongs and rope tugs
All are wonderful toys
And they all give me hours of pleasure
But there's one more that I adore
- They're my most special prize,
If I lost them I'd probably die...
Tennis balls, Tennis balls!
Throw them so I can go fetch 'em!
Tennis balls, Tennis balls!
Come on let's go out and play!

New Woobie
(to the tune of "White Christmas")

I'm dreaming of a new woobie
Just like the ones I used to know...
with its skin so fluffy,
I'll call it "Scruffy"
and baptize it in the snow...

I'm dreaming of a new woobie
with every old one that I shred,
Mom, I'll even take it to bed...
but by New Year's Day it will be dead!

If you have a fondness for "doggerel" & would like to contribute some "Howliday" lyrics of your own, submit them here. If they meet our dubious standards, we'll share them in the weeks to come.

Here's one we especially liked

Kill the Birds
(to the tune of "Silver Bells")

Birds are winging, chirping, singing.
What a terrible din!
How I hate all this avian nuisance!
Jays and grackles raise my hackles.
Here they come back again!
So I lift up my foreleg and plead:

"Kill the birds, kill the birds!
Can't you see? There, where I'm pointing!
There they are - open fire!
We'll bag our limit this year."

Quails and pheasants hide their presence
where there's no one about.
I can almost pretend they're extincted.
But the sparrows raise my hair so,
right in MyMy back Out!
Hiding up where a doggy can't reach.

"Kill the birds, kill the birds!"
this German Shorthair is begging.
"Blast them all, large and small.
We'll have a grand Kissmoose day!"
- contributed by "Gunner",
(with a little help from his "Dad", Bill Thacker)

And here's one for "Chewish" doggies celebrating Chanukah

The Eight Nights of Chewnaka

On the first night of Chewnaka, my hoomans gave to me
a collar that was so shiny...
2 liver treats
3 crispy latkas
4 crunchy biscuits
5 T-bone steaks
6 cheese slices
7 balls a-bouncing
8 tummy scritches
- submitted by "Sasha" and her family,
The Allens

JUST IN!
... another contribution by the irrepressible "Gunner" & his Dad, Bill Thacker!

Winter Wonderland
(to the tune of "Winter Wonderland")

Dog tags ring, are you listenin'?
In the lane snow is glistenin'.
It's yellow, not white - I've been there tonight,
marking up my winter wonderland.

Smell that tree? That's my fragrance
. It's a sign for wand'ring vagrants:
"Avoid where I pee, it's my property!
Marked up as my winter wonderland."

In the meadow Dad will build a snowman,
following the classical design.
Then I'll lift my leg and let it go, man,
so all the world will know it's mine-mine-mine!

Straight from me to the fencepost,
flows my natural incense boast:
"Stay off of my turf, this small piece of earth.
I mark it as my winter wonderland."
(Thanks, Gunner & Bill, you're "too much!" <vbg>)

And two MORE from "Gunner" & "Mister Bill"! Thanks, guys!

Goodboy Wenceslas
(to the tune of "Good King Wenceslas")

Goodboy Wenceslas kept off
of the dinner table,
came when called and sat when told,
fetched when he was able.
Such a fine, O-B-dyent boy
ought to be rewarded.
But to Wencie's great dismay,
all his treats were hoarded.

One day Wencie lost his cool
and went on a rampage.
Chewed the sofa, wet the rug,
did a lot of damage.
When his hoomins then came home
and they saw the rubble,
you can guess that Wenceslas
got in lots of Trubble.

Took him to a training school
asking, "What's the matter?
Once he was our sweet, goodboy,
now he's getting badder."
Then the trainer said to them,
"You must both be rookies.
Don't you know that gooddogs need
lots and lots of cookies?"

Then his parents saw the light;
quickly they repented.
Gave him every treat in sight,
borrowed, bought, or rented.
Pig ears, hooves and rawhide chews,
(other treats are pending)
now our Wencie just can't lose,
what a happy ending!

We Three Hounds
(to the tune of "We Three Kings")

We three hounds from Oregon are.
Smelling treats, we've tracked them quite far.
Led our mission to your kitchen,
right there to yonder jar.

Roo-oooooo...
Can we have one, pretty please?
Must we beg upon our knees?
Crunchy! Chewy! Love them? Do we!
Serve them up - please don't tease!

(Gunner... get out of the eggnog!)

So, How Much Would Our Masters Pay For Those
Twelve Treats of Christmas?
$521.49
Based on 1997 prices from a familiar pet supply catalog,
shipping not included.
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Text & photos on these pages copyright 1997, Cheryl P. Vetter.
Background created for our exclusive use by SpiderDog. Thanks! :)