The days, as well as the nights, grew colder. Although a thick hide and fur covered Jeff's donkey form, he felt the cold, nevertheless, especially on frosty nights. As those nights became more commonplace, he missed his old life with his warm bed, thick blankets, and a room of his own. Now, he crowded into a barn with other animals, lowly livestock, other than the proud horse, as shelter against the cold and wind. Nevertheless, his huge ears detected howling winds raging overhead as the first of winter's storms buffeted the farm where he now lived. One morning, he emerged from the barn to find the farm and fields blanketed with a heavy layer of snow.
In his former life, he might have appreciated the beauty of winter's first snowfall and grown excited thinking of snow boarding and a Christmas ski vacation with his parents. Now, he spent hours pawing at the snow, trying to scrape away enough of it to expose the grass beneath. A surge of gratitude expressed itself with excited brays on his part when one of the farmers arrived to fill several troughs with silage.
As much as he wanted the food, Jeff had to stand by and wait his turn as the horse, cattle, and other donkeys got first choice of the silage. By the time he was able to lower his snout into the trough, he had to forage on the scraps that had already been mouthed by many of the other farm animals. He snorted with the usual distress before he began to mindlessly fill his stomach.
This morning, as he finished eating, the farmer attached a bridle over Jeff's snout and slipped a bit into his mouth, to more easily lead the dumb animal where it was required. They'd given up on training the donkey, which seemed incapable of learning most of the basic commands. What Jeff knew was that he must follow and accept whatever was being planned, or he would receive punishment from a whip.
To his surprise, the farmer led him to a water hose, which he used to wet down his fur. Attaching the reins to a hitching post, the farmer then worked a crude soap into Jeff's thick, polluted fur. After a thorough job, the man applied the stream from the water hose to rinsing the dirty lather from the soap out of Jeff's fur, carrying off months of dirt and even cum and piss from the donkey's fur, eventually leaving Jeff much less smelly. In fact, he looked and smelled better than he had since arriving at the farm so many months ago. He had tried, at first, to keep count, but had eventually lost track of the days, weeks, and months. He might have wished for warm water, but he was so happy to get clean that he didn't mind the cold water straight from the hose. After finishing the task, the farmer detached the bridle, removed the hateful bit, and gave the beast a critical look and made a sharp command.
Of course, Jeff couldn't understand the farmer's words. If he could have understood, he would have realized that the man had simply warned him not to get dirty again. Poor Jeff was left to speculate about this unusual but welcome treatment.
He didn't need to wait too long to find out the motivation on the part of the farmers who now owned him. Later in the day, Jeff and some of the other animals — oddly, not the horse — were shepherded from the barn and loaded into a trailer for a short drive. At a local church, they were unloaded onto a lawn. Jeff stared at the hazy church steeple as a collection of sheep, goats, a couple of cows, and Jeff milled about on the grass.
His huge, furry ears picked up the sounds of organ and piano inside the nearby building. He recognized the tune. He still recognized music, even though the words of the classic Christmas carol escaped his comprehension.
"It must be Christmas!" Jeff brayed with shocked realization.
Could it really be Christmas? He had arrived at the farm on the Fourth of July. Had five months already passed?
The music stopped and a crowd exited the church. Jeff watched with alarm as the blurry forms converged on the lawn, too, and surrounded him and the other animals. The sun set overhead, people got busy situating the various livestock as living props for the planned Nativity scene. Jeff was humbled again by the bridle and bit, but he was led gently toward a blurry creche build on the lawn in front of the church. People in costume gathered with the animals. There were shepherds, wisemen, and angels, yet Jeff had trouble focusing on them with his poor eyesight.
A man in what appeared to be a hood and a bath robe took control of the reins attached to Jeff's bridle. A woman stood with him.
His childhood lessons didn't fail him. They're Joseph and Mary!
He brayed excitedly, disturbing some of the people and causing some of the younger persons in the crowd to point and laugh.
Christmas! Jeff brayed loudly, obnoxiously, ruining the effect the planners wished for the scene.
"It's Christmas!" Jeff brayed louder as his thoughts raced. "Please, please," he prayed. "A Christmas miracle... for me, oh please, god, I don't want to be a donkey any longer."
"Joseph" tugged on the reins and worked the bit in Jeff's mouth, forcing him to stop braying or experience worse discomfort from the hateful metal bit lodged in his sensitive mouth.
The reins were held tightly without warning as the woman, with help from some of the other people, climbed onto his back. The sensation felt weird and reminded him, yet again, of his status as a beast of burden... an ancient mode of transport. And now he would be part of a re-enactment as Mary rode a lowly donkey, with all of its inherent symbolism of humility and more, in front of an audience.