It's a week before Christmas and all through the frig not a thing to be found, not even a smidge. The kitchen is cleaned, the floor is clear. My heart is sunk, for no crumb is near. The pack leader is gone, chasing a ball, the children are screaming and running down the hall. The mamma has left, to Meijer I hope, if I don't get food soon, it will be my worse mope. It already has been quite a week. My hair is too long, and my girl friend thinks I'm a freak. All I need to turn this whole thing around is a big juicy steak and ... wait ...what is that sound? The garage door is up, could it possibly be? The Mamma is home with a snack for me!!