'Twas the Night Before Christmas, in the Mills of Missouri
By Robin Pressnall

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the mills,
not a puppy was stirring, it was strangely quite still.
While back at the pole, Santa readied the sleigh,
to pick up these mill dogs, it was such a long way! 

The reindeer were dressing all quick in a hurry
They were headed for RESCUE, and straight for MISSOURI!
On Dasher on Dancer on Comet and Cupid.
Those pups go to Pet Shops! We know! We're not stupid!

As his sleigh did approach, the mill gates opened wide,
Santa called to them all, and they all jumped inside!
On Poodles, on Bichons, on Golden Retrievers!
Grab up the babies, we save those for grievers!

On Westies, on Lhasas, on cute Weenie Boogers,
On Shih Tzus and Scotties, they're all sweet as sugar!
On Schnauzers, and Maltese, on Wire Haired Fox Terriers!
We've got room for ALL, the more now, the merrier!

And the sleigh just grew bigger as they all made more room,
These pups lives were changing! No more gloom and doom!
While out on the lawns there arose such a clatter
The millers ran out to see what was the matter!

When they found their "stock" gone, how the millers did sob, 
while a Voice from above boomed, "GO GET A REAL JOB!"
As it seemed it could not get much better than this,
I started to wake, did I dream all of this???

There was no red sleigh, no reindeer with wings.
I guess it was sadly, just one of those things,
That you dream and you dream, till one day 'twill be.
That glorious day, when the mills are history!

And I think as we tell them, and tell them again,
Soon it will be that we all know that when,
One buys from a pet shop, there are pups you don't see.
The Mama and Daddy, who are longing to be,
loved by a family, and scratched on their heads.
Not sleeping on wire, that are now called their beds. 

One day it will be, oh how great that will feel!
We won't mill our puppies like paper and steel! 
And I heard it exclaimed as I woke up that night, 
We won't stand for this, we'll stand up and fight!

With each breath we do have and each word we do say,
we'll tell about the mills, till that glorious day,
when the mills are all outlawed, and all over Missouri,
The occupation of milling, will be but a memory.

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