Clad in his traditional festive garb, the fat, jolly bruin climbed into the sleigh and settled his mammoth frame. With a twitch of his snout and crack of his whip, he raised his muzzle and roared. “On Bios! On Ruckus! It’s time to take flight! Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good-- . . . .”

The sled hadn’t moved.

The husky and wolf grunted and strained as they tried to pull the massive load. “’Massive load’ is right,” they grumbled to one another.

“I heard that!”

They pulled and pulled until they were sick;

Bios’ back snapped in half,

Ruckus’ heart popped like a tick.

Santa Bear chuckled and patted his belly so round’

“I’ll need a few (thousand) more furs to get my ass off the ground!”

And the forest heard Santa roar as he waddled from sight,

“Screw this dog and sled crap, I’m booking a flight!”

((Transferring a few more old pieces to my Weasyl gallery. This was my 2006 Christmas card photo))