Twas the day before Christmas when Rudolph and I
traveled to Concord through a frosty blue sky.
I was missing a reindeer and thought he might be
in Grampa Moore's valley with all those nice trees.
Aha! There I saw him, down by the creek,
running and jumping, so graceful and sleek.
I landed my sleigh and called with a grin,
"Let's go, you old rascal," and Rudolph jumped in.
We were halfway back home to my place at the Pole
when I looked at him closely, and lo and behold!
He was Bob Moore's big doggy, having great fun
as we circled around the moon and the sun.
His tail was wagging, his crazy ears flopping;
he seemed so unhappy to see we were stopping.
I just couldn't keep him, for Jack wasn't mine,
so I said, "Whoa there, Big Jack! It's the end of the line!"
His master was calling, "Oh Jack! Come back home!"
and we swirled through the air like a mighty cyclone.
In just 60 seconds, we were on the Moore roof,
and Jack said goodbye with a mighty "Woof! Woof!"
Down the chimney I dropped him ever so gently--
Big Jack had been on the ride of the century!
I heard Big Jack say as I soared out of sight,
"The ride was a grrr-eat one! I'll see you tonight!
---found on Rose's word processor, Christmas 1999
NOTE: Big Jack passed away just before Christmas 2009. There is now a Big Mick who is even bigger than Jack, and too looks a bit like a deer. Rose says he has not yet travelled with Santa. At least as far as she knows...