Santa’s Dog – “Chimney”
There’s Dancer, Prancer, Donner, and Blitzen – the elves, Mrs. Santa Claus too,
who work hard all year – so that Santa may bring – a wonderful Christmas to you.
In a workshop up North there’s Rudolph and friends, white snow, and a large Christmas tree,
a new friend this year – whom I’ll tell you about – the pup that they’re calling “Chimney.”
A cute little thing – ’bout as small as a flake – of the snow that keeps falling up there,
he’s colored in white – a gray and a brown – so pretty it blends in his hair.
Santa found him one morning – out under his porch – cuddled up on a tattered snow shoe,
Santa picked him up gently and laughed with a roar, “What shall I be doing with you?”
He took him inside – the elves jumped with glee – and all made a whole lot of noise,
then looking at Santa – he said with a gleam – “Here’s someone new that can help with the toys.”
They taught him to hold his paw on the knots as ribbons were tied on the boxes,
he learned how to bring, as quick as a flash, the tails that went on the toy foxes.
He helped with the candy – he helped with the cakes – helped the elves into bed every night,
he worked very hard, and really quite fast, could he not come on this Christmas’ flight?
Santa thought hard, the pros and the cons, of this pup in his sleigh Christmas Eve,
‘twas never a problem, of where he would ride, for he fit tight in Santa’s big sleeve.
There was really no reason – Santa said with a gleam – why young Chimney did not really belong,
he knew from the past – when men ventured out – their dog always followed along.
So off they left early – all packed to the seams – Mrs. Claus and the elves waved good-bye,
then quick as a wink – with Rudolph in front – off into the air they did fly.
Over roof tops and valleys – over cities and lanes – went the sleigh packed so high with the toys,
so excited was Chimney – to leave all those gifts – moving softly to not make a noise.
The pup filled the stockings – and Santa the trees – working quickly with never a nod,
a dolly for sister – for mother a purse – for father that new fishing rod.
A quick bite of cookies – a sip of the milk – then back to the rooftops they’d go,
the same is then done – to each house on the block – filling all as they stand in a row.
‘Twas early that morning when they stuffed the last sock – quite tired were Santa and friend,
but neither felt sorry – though just kind of sad – one more ride had now come to an end.
But wait ’til next year, ’round old Christmas Eve, for Santa and Chimney’ll be here,
to fill all those stocking – and bring to those houses – the best of the holiday cheer.
So as you are going to bed Christmas Eve – placing cookies alongside the tree,
remember to leave, alongside the plate, a bone for that tiny “Chimney.”