"'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse."

Many writers can't resist quoting and rewriting the famous words of the classic poem, circa 1823, generally credited to Clement C. Moore. I'm doing it myself and I'm writing about a writer who has done the same thing.

" 'Twas The Bite Before Christmas" is the title of a new book by Lee Charles Kelley. Published in paperback by Avon Books, it's a great $6.99 item to stuff into stockings "hung by the chimney with care."

"Bite" is a murder mystery with a twist. The book's crime-solving sleuth, Jack Field, is a former New York city cop who has moved to Maine where he works as a dog trainer. His own dogs are Hooch, a big orange dogue de Bordeaux, and Frankie, a black and white English field setter.

The fictional murder occurs shortly before Christmas, and elves play a role. Beyond that, it's really not a Christmas story at all. It's a jolly good read for those who enjoy "escape" fiction.

Here's the twist. Sprinkled throughout "Bite Before Christmas" are dog training tips from Jack Field. They're real tips, for Mr. Kelley has been a professional dog trainer in New York City for 10 years.

Three earlier books feature Jack Field and dog training tips: "A Nose for Murder," "Murder Unleashed" and "To Collar a Killer." A fifth book is coming out in the summer.

Mr. Kelley says readers of the mysteries send e-mail thanking him for tips which helped their own dogs.

He has training tips on the Web site, www.leecharleskelley.com, which also has a sample reel of his work as a voice-over actor.

Mr. Kelley lives in Manhattan with Fred, a 14-year-old Dalmatian.

Singing Santas and high-kicking dancers cavorted on the Benedum Center stage for the Radio City Rockettes Christmas Spectacular Nov. 10 through Dec. 4. When two huge camels regally glided across the stage during the Nativity scene, there were a few oohs and aahhs from members of the audience.

I wondered if the 145,000 people who saw the Christmas show realized that the camels were real.

During the show's Pittsburgh run, male dromedary camels Taz and Rowdy lived in an alley called Tito Way. Downtown workers and shoppers probably never saw them, for a view of their pen was blocked by a camper which provided living quarters for two keepers who traveled with the camels from a farm in Kansas.

Late at night, Taz and Rowdy were taken out for walks. Wouldn't that make a great photograph? Despite the best efforts of Pittsburgh Post-Gazette photographer Martha Rial, we were never given permission to do that. The handlers did, however, let us meet the camels.

Taz and Rowdy left their hay to come over and visit. We rubbed their noses and scratched under their chins and watched handlers give them bananas, which camels eat, skin and all. They have big, beautiful brown eyes framed by long, thick eyelashes which protect their eyes from wind-blown desert sand.

The camel shelter had a thick bedding of sawdust and a tent-like awning to keep out rain and snow.

Dromedary camels have one hump. Bactrian camels have two humps. While dromedaries are generally considered to be native to Arabia and northern Africa, fossils indicate camels originated in North America. Dromedaries have been domesticated for 4,000 to 5,000 years.

For the second Christmas Eve in a row, a fireplace mantel in Millvale will have a stocking "hung by the chimney with care" for a little hound named Billy.

Regular readers of Pet Tales would know him as Billy the Flood Dog.

Billy was wandering the streets of Millvale in late September 2004. The woman who found him thought he and his family had been displaced by post-Hurricane Ivan floods. Margaret Effinger kept him in her home for one night. Then she took him to the Western Pennsylvania Humane Society because she thought that gave him the best chance of being reunited with his family.

Ms. Effinger said she would adopt him if no one claimed him. Shelter workers said Billy could not be adopted because he flunked a temperament test. Billy would be killed because he didn't like it when shelter workers pinched his toes.

Dog lovers sent hundreds of e-mails and phone calls to the shelter and to me, and Billy went home with Ms. Effinger just before Thanksgiving 2004.

This month Ms. Effinger called to let me know that Billy is healthy, happy, loved and enjoying life with her other dog, Peaches, 8. No one pinches his toes, but they do clip his toenails at the groomers, and Billy doesn't mind that at all.

And so, to Billy and Peaches and all the lucky pets who have homes, and to all the shelter animals that are looking for love and permanent homes:

"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night."