Kirkepiscatoid

Many of the European countries have a legend where, at midnight on Christmas Eve, the animals can talk.

I was up late last night, around 1 a.m. heard quite the donkey commotion outside. My two donkeys, Miss Sylvia and Miss Topaz, were out in the moonlight, braying their lungs out. I didn't make out any words of English, but as far as I'm concerned, they were living up to the Christmas Eve legend. So I stood outside and sang some Christmas songs with them. (They seem to have a preference for black gospel, so we sang "Sweet Little Jesus Boy," "No Room at the Inn," and "The Last Month of the Year" with them. They continued to bray, I'm convinced they were wanting to sing along.

So the three of us entered Christmas day with "brays and thanksgiving!"