Not a Setter was stirring, though they do love to race.

The stockings were hung by the fireplace with care,

In hopes that dear Santa Paws soon would be there;

The pups were all nestled so snug in their beds,

And visions of dog biscuits danced in their heads;

Now Mom in her nightgown and I in my jams,

Had just sat to relax with a night cap and grahams.

When out in the yard there was such a great uproar,

I jumped from the chair to see where all our dogs were.

Away to the mudroom I ran in a fright,

Tore open the back door and turned on the light.

The bright moon above that new-fallen snow,

Gave the luster of clean hair to objects below.

Then rubbing my eyes to see somewhat better,

A small sleigh, I saw, with eight Red Irish Setters!

With a little old handler, so lively and sure,

I thought him a new Conformation Show cure!

Faster than greyhounds his charges they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

"Now, Simon! now, Riley! Chantilly and Sadie!

On, Callie! on Ali! and Zack, if you're ready!

To the top of the kennel! to the top of the wall!

Now run away! run away! run away all!"

As dry leaves that before our Red Setters do fly,

When they meet with a tree trunk go up to the sky,

So up to the house-top our Setters they flew,

With the sleigh full of chew toys, and Santa Paws too.

And then, in an instant, I heard on the roof,

The scratching and pawing of each red haired foot.

As I pulled in my head, and was turning around,

Out of the fireplace he came with no sound.

He was dressed all in green fur, and he really didn't care,

That his clothes were all covered with the Setters' red hair.

A bag full of dog toys he sat on the floor,

And he looked like a vendor just opening his store.

His eyes -- how they sparkled! his dimples how merry!

His cheeks were all crimson, his nose like a berry!

His sweet mouth smiled broadly dispelling the rumor

That he wasn't our Santa, but a plump setter groomer!

A small Irish pipe he held tight in his teeth,

And a cluster of shamrocks framed his face like a wreath;

He had a round little face and a tiny round belly,

That shook, when he laughed like a bowl full of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old judge,

And I smiled when I saw him, (not holding a grudge);

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

Soon gave us to know we had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, 

And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,

And patting each Setter now holding their stack,

He gave them a nod, and turned to go back;

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him shout out, as he drove from my sight,

"HAPPY SHOWING TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT!" 

ArnBe Designs for Highland Irish Setters ~ 2000