Above: The Great Dog Murphy, Director of Canine Pursuits, happy to help on Christmas Day as long as he can chase the occasional stick.

I could be with my boyfriend in Hawaii, my Dad in Florida, my brother in Virginia, my sister in Michigan, or my mother, grandmother, aunts, uncles--the whole maternal clan--in Nashville.

Instead, donned in long johns and jeans, boots, gloves and hat, and t-shirt, turtleneck, fleece vest, jacket, I'm scooping poop at Catskill Animal Sanctuary, assisted by the great dog Murphy, my eleven-year-old yellow lab, and I couldn't be happier.

With our two animal caretakers either on vacation or taking the day off, I'm in the barn--per usual on Christmas Day. WAMC, the public radio station, is airing Christmas essays, including David Sedaris' hilarious account of his single day working as an elf in a shopping mall. April and Allen and Alex are here with me. Quickly and effortlessly we divide up the morning feed routine: April and Allen feed the "outside" animals -- mostly big animals in big pastures the farthest from the barn; Alex feeds the "barnyard" animals -- the rabbits, ducks, and chickens in seven different shelters clustered closer to the main barn, and I feed the menagerie inside the barn: six special needs horses whose age or condition have earned them a permanent spot there; the 18 potbellies and big pigs who need the heated stalls; 12 goats; Lama and Jack, our two blind (or nearly) sheep; and an electic assortment of birds: five broiler roosters, Norma Jean the turkey, roosters Sumo, Rocky, Doodles and Scribble...and so on. Today, a few extra treats are placed in each feed dish. Today, every single animal gets a kiss. Every chicken gets held, every pig is massaged, every horse muzzle has a kiss planted on its smooth, warm center.

"Umh...umphhh..." Franklin the pig grunts in gratitude. And Norma Jean, our rescued turkey, settles into my lap--uncertainly at first, but with each new breath, she lets go a little until her eyes are heavy and she's asleep.

I steal away mid-morning and an hour later return with three-dozen vegan pancakes. Christmas brunch in the barn!! We pass juice and maple syrup, and vegan dietician George Eisman and his girlfriend Melanie Carpenter come by with one of Melanie's extraordinary desserts. So what if we've just finished a pound of strawberry pancakes apiece? It's Christmas!! We dive into Melanie's chocolate mousse pie.

Outside the kitchen door, Franklin grunts. "Can I come in?" he pleads. We're tempted, but Franklin is no longer the five-pound piglet who arrived at Catskill Animal Sanctuary two winters ago. He is 500 pounds, and a 500-pound pig loose in a kitchen wouldn't be pretty...not even on Christmas.

I grab two pancakes and slip out the back door. "Merry Christmas, best pig in the world," I whisper to my friend, who gleefully gobbles the pancakes. "Come on, boy, it's time to go back to work," I say to him, and Murphy, Franklin, and I head down the drive to clean the goose house.

Merry Christmas, World.