Dear Pretty,

I am sending the old woman Slow to you for Christmas tomorrow and I hope you know I would be with you if I could but she is flying on the wings of a snow white dove or, failing that, in an airplane so Miss Otis regrets she’s unable to fly in the cargo section because regrettably I am too large for one of those minute cages that has to fit under the seats in the cabin .   Ugh.  I shake and quiver at the thought.   There’s something not quite right about an airplane anyway, if you catch my drift.

So to quote one of Slow’s all-time favorite Elvis hits, I’ll have a blue Christmas without you.   I’ll be so blue just thinking about you.   Decorations of red on a green Christmas tree won’t be the same, dear, if you’re not here with me, etc.   You get the picture, Pretty.   Paw Licker Annie and I will be wishing we could be with you and Smokey Lonesome Ollie and Tennis Ball Obsessed Chelsea and the old woman Slow in South Carolina for the holidays and we know you will miss The Red Man most of all.   Please save your Pretty Pets for when I see you again, ok?   Don’t give them all away to the undeserving, and I think you know who I mean.  Wink, wink.

I am sure the Little Women of Worsham Street will take good care of us in Texas and they will turn on our Disneyland lights every night and we will think of you when we see them twinkling…Merry Christmas, Pretty!   I love you most.

Your favorite of all,

The Red Man