Twas the night before Christmas , and the coldest one yet One last farm call to make , for a tired old Horse Vet The horses were snuggled, and tucked in their stalls Where the only thing moving, were the mice in the walls Their feed buckets were hung, by the stall doors with care In the hopes that The Horse Doctor, soon would be there Out in the paddock, there arose quite a fussin’ The hot wire was on, and someone was cussin’ I ran to the window, and stuck my nose through the curtain “I think that’s the Doc", looks like he’s limping for certain” From out in the barn, came the faint scent of Brandy And he was passing out meds, as if it were candy Some Bute for your lameness, Dexamethasone for you Antibiotics for that one, and some Banamine too As he walked back to his truck, he screamed as if shot “I reckon he forgot, that the wire was still hot” I could still hear him fussin’, as he drove down the hill “Merry Christmas to all, I’ll just send you the bill”