Amy Brown-Mastiff Studios

My name is Abigail

        Sweet as can be

And I want to tell you

        About the day Santa left me


After last Christmas

        I heard Rudolph say

He no longer wanted to fly

        On the big day


Here was my chance

        My dream could come true

I could fly for Rudolph

        This I could do


I worked, and I worked

        The weights I did jerk

I did trim, I did tone

        I skipped every nice bone



The day finally arrived. 

         I was ready to go.

Alert and attentive

         At the first HO HO HO


Lined up with the reindeer

        Proud as could be

Decked in the costume

        The elves made for me


 Santa said with a smile

        Tender and sweet

I was a good girl  

        But I’d stay here on my feet


I pouted and begged

        I nuzzled his leg


But Santa stood firm


I had not a chance

         This move was

For reindeer to dance


Rudolph looked over

        A frown on his face

Disappointed that I

        Could not take his lead place


Santa knelt close

        With a pat and a hug

He said he was happy

        I’d caught the flight bug


I was sad as they left

        But my duty I knew

I watched over the elves

        And Mrs. Claus too


For twenty-four hours,

        I paced and protected

To anything bad

        I promptly rejected


The packages delivered

        The reindeer put up

Santa had something

        For his faithful good pup


He reached towards his bag

        And then I could see

A package inside

        It must be for me


From the bag came a box

        Wrapped in old burlap and leather

A great tasty treat

        To chomp in bad weather


With Mrs. Claus help

         I ripped it apart

It was then that I noticed

        Her hands clasped to her heart


With a jolly laugh in her voice

         I heard her proclaim

This was a collar for me

          For it bared my fair name


Santa spoke softly

        The time-honored decree

I listened intently

        The words were for me


Abigail, the mastiff,

        You’ve earned the right

To wear the Guardian collar

        Christmas Eve night


My position is clear

        I fly every year

My job is to guard Santa

        And eight prancing reindeer


Merry Christmas

Guardian Abigail


North Pole