Not so SILENT NIGHT

Why was the little donkey in the stable making such a racket?

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Come on, girl, Ben called to his collie, Marley. 'Let's see what's up with Star.'

Shoulders hunched against the falling snow, he hurried across the yard, Marley trotting alongside, her blue-merle coat ghostly in the half-light.

Jerked from a dreamless sleep by Star's noisy braying, Ben was anxious to quieten the donkey before his only neighbour, Carmel Shepherd, was disturbed.

A lifelong friendship with his late aunt had left Carmel under the illusion that she had some say in the smallholding's future, and his decision to turn it into an animal sanctuary hadn't gone down well. Wrecking her Christmas would hardly help.

'What sort of animals?' she'd demanded, when Ben had dropped by her cottage to outline his plans two months after he'd moved in.

'Can't tell until they arrive, Carmel. Though no timber wolves or tigers!'

First to arrive had been Marley, whose owner, Walter, was now in a nursing home. The old man had been delighted by Ben's offer to take her in.

Next was Rags, the Persian cat. Found by workmen demolishing a derelict building, the tomcat's fur had been so matted, he looked like a walking rag rug. Three months on, with his coat restored to its gleaming glory, Rags had regained all the lofty hauteur of his breeding.