Well, da day started off good enuf.
We were just relaxin in da new jammies dat Finley and Brinley's momma made us when we heard a package drop on da porch.
And Aubrey McTwinkle ran straight to da door.
Da package had come all da way from Vermont. Which are pretty much da North Pole, or at least dat are what momma says.
Oh no! McTwinkle says Santa sent reinforcements by da name of Elwood O'Jingle cuz of da naughty pups in dis house!
Oh FUDGE. Only I didn't say "fudge." I said THE word, the big one, the queen-mother of dirty words, the "F-dash-dash-dash" word!
Or as we call it round here, every other word outta grandpa's mouth!
Dis Elwood O'Jingle are TRUBBULL! We'd collected a whole month's worth of blackmail on McTwinkle - stealin cookies, poopin on da cookies, emptyin a bottle of Jim Beam, snortin candy cane dust like cocaine . . .
We has nuffin on dis new elf!
Finley says it are all our fault for bein such naughty puppies. And dat dere wuz no elves when it wuz her and Whitley.
Bloodletting and trips to da emergency vet, yeah, but no ELVES!
It are a good thing our new jammies has elves on em!
See Mister O'Jingle and Mister McTwinkle, we is good dogs. And we luvs elves.
Can we interest ya in a Peppermint Barktini??
What? Ya prefurs coffee??? Oh FUDGE.
I tried to hide, but O'Jingle said dey had dere eyes on me!
Has I told ya what handsome elves ya are? And dat da mommas has cookies in da kitchen dat I bet some elves (and some westies by da way) would like . . .
Will da flattery and cookies be enuf to make dese elves give us a good report? Do ya think we can tempt O'Jingle wif some "speshul nog?" I'm hopin Christmas morning won't find us FUDGED.