7 am. A perfect November morning: brisk, a slight breeze, leaves crunch beneath my feet as Murphy, my dog and best pal, walk the wooded trails at the back of the farm. Suddenly, Murphy takes off like a bullet, and I look ahead and see them: wild turkeys--a flock of twenty or more--scurrying, now rising into the air as the mad yellow dog gets closer. Yes, turkeys fly, and when they see a 80-pound dog charging at them, they fly well and quickly.

Mind you, Labrador Retriever though he is, Murphy has no inclination whatsoever to kill. Zero. He once rushed toward an injured squirrel, but when he realized the squirrel couldn't run, he lay down not more than two feet from it, and simply watched.

But oh, my, my, how the dog loves the thrill of the chase. That's when his DNA kicks in. Because he knows that he is not allowed to chase ANY Catskill Animal Sanctuary animal, I don't try to stop him once he picks up a deer or turkey scent. Not that I COULD, anyway.

It's close to 8 when we return. Breakfast is being delivered to Catskill Animal Sanctuary residents. I reach into the fridge, pull out four small cooked pumpkins left over from our Taste of Kindness cooking demonstration (stuff a pumpkin, not a turkey, we encouraged people!) and head to the barn. The pig dishes sit on the floor, already filled with apple, pear, banana. Oooh, how they love pumpkin, though!! Lorraine tears big hunks and divides them evenly so that Zoey, Hampton, Mabel, Ozzie, Claude, Valentino, Jojo, Hazel and all the rest can all enjoy the soft, slightly sweet flesh.

I walk out into the barn aisle, and the din is deafening. When twenty pigs know it's nearly breakfast time, they make A LOT of noise. Squeals and growls and grunts come at me from all corners of the barn, layered with the anticipatory whinnies of the horses. The pigs seem to be swearing--DEMANDING their damned breakfast--while the horses seem to be saying "oh boy oh boy can't wait can't wait breakfast here it comes oh boy oh boy...."

Suddenly a woolly head appears. It's Hannah the sheep, and her front hooves are resting on the 4-foot front wall of her stall. "Where's mine?" she bleats.

From the opposite end of the barn, Alex hollers, "Here they come," and a dozen goats race and buck and spin down the aisle and outside toward their pasture, where breakfast awaits them. We call this wonderful display The Goat Parade.

At the front of the barn, Kathy loads the purple pickup with hay for the outside animals. In the distance, the cows call, and so do the roosters, the ducks, the geese. Every one of our 170 animals loves this moment: the sun is up, they're about to come outside to enjoy the day, and breakfast is on its way.

Make a joyful noise unto the world. And they do, every single morning.

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.

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This winter is kicking our asses...and it's officially only three weeks old.

When snow comes early in the season and hangs around for weeks, winter kicks your ass.

When a second and then a third snow accumulates on top of the first, winter kicks your ass.

When the wind is so bitter that not even the hardiest cows want to leave the barn, winter kicks your ass.

When even your most dedicated volunteers disappear because, really, this weather is just too much, winter kicks your ass.

When you must plow for two hours, dig out gates from mounds of fresh snow, crack solid ice in 100-gallon water troughs just to begin the day, winter kicks your ass.

When what looks like driveway is really black ice and your feet fly from under you and you crash to your elbows, the grain buckets you were carrying flying like frisbees through the air, winter kicks your ass.

When the animals are cozy in their heated stalls but the heater in the only warm room for humans shuts down on a holiday when no one will repair it, winter kicks your ass.

When the old pig Policeman wants to do nothing other than snuggle under the hay in his heated stall, but you know he must get up and move those old, arthritic joints, and when he in frustration, whips around a little too far and suddenly pig head and human head collide for one painful, dizzying moment, winter kicks your ass.

When four people in a single day are desperate to place their animals because their homes and farms are in foreclosure, and when even though the LAST thing you want to do in these grueling conditions is take in more needy animals, you consider it because, indeed, that is your mission, winter kicks your ass.

Regular readers of this blog know how tough this winter has been on Catskill Animal Sanctuary. If you're just tuning in, let me tell you that we have taken a beating this year!

We are approaching the time of year when we throw open our doors to visitors so they can come here, meet the animals and learn about them, and best of all, experience for themselves the kindness and love that permeates this very special place. After this endless winter, CAS needs a bit of touching up...and we're hoping you'll pitch in!

On Saturday, April 26th and Sunday April 27, join us for a Spring Cleaning party from 10am-5pm both days. Weather permitting, we'll be landscaping, weed whacking, leaf raking, painting five new shelters,(including the barn above), and as always with this place, having a blast as we work our fannies off!

Lunch, beverages, and animal kisses will be provided. Bring heavy work gloves, boots if you have them (otherwise grungy sneakers or other shoes with good treads)...and be prepared to leave filthy and smiling!