Smokey, God rest his soul
the poor old dog was very full
that Christmas day years ago.
We took the turkey out to sit
and left for church to praise the lord.
It must have given Smokey fits
to see that big old turkey sit
there, on the counter, not far away,
on that holy Christmas Day.
Back in the car we rode home
singing off key “Where Sheperds Roam”,
while our empty tummies groaned
and thoughts of turkey, gravy and pies
filled our hungry wanting eyes.
But as we entered the kitchen door
we saw the turkey there on the floor,
not a piece of meat on the bones,
as Smokey slept and snored and groaned.
What the heck, “Now if you please”,
Mom said “We’ll order out Chinese!"
So every year until today
we toast to Smokey on Christmas Day.