All I want for Christmas.

Dearest Santyclaws,

All I want for Christmas is bacon. I do not want bacon-flavored chew toys. I do not want bacon-scented snacks. I do not want bacon-scented sweaters. I do not want a bacon-scented plush bed. I do not want bacon look-a-like tofu dog biscuits.
I just want real bacon. A year's supply. Thank you.
And maybe rethink my offer to ride herd on those 8 tiny reindeer of yours during the rest of the year. I'm out of a job and they've got a bit of attitude. Especially the guy with the red nose. And, frankly, they're all getting kind of chubby. Let me chase them around the pasture for an hour! All that exercise will increase their flying times!
Could you ask the elves to get more creative with pet presents this year? The neighbor's cat has asked if catnip could be put in something more interesting than a felt mouse. Maybe a felt possum or rope chicken. Something that she could really get into batting around the kitchen floor. (Personally, I think she has anger issues.)
But let's get back to the bacon. That's very, very important, Santyclaws. Please don't forget the bacon. And bring some for my buddy Sammy, too. He hasn't been naughty at all this year. He hasn't even contemperlated (sp?) being naughty. I was only naughty that one time I tried to eat the UPS man but I didn't get him so that doesn't actually count, does it? (Mommy does not think it counts.)
I will believe in your forever and ever if you bring the bacon!

Your most adorablest and favoritest Corgi in the entire world,

Finnegan James.