We don't have children because we weren't able to have children, so I do buy the dogs one Christmas dog stocking, contents to be shared according to taste. It's more for me, than for them, since I grew up in a large family, and there's just not enough action around here to make it feel like Christmas.
Christmas Eve, midnight, I tell the dogs "Look what Santa brought" and made a ceremony of cutting open the stocking, and then dividing the toys and bones into piles by each dog. They all go quite goofy with excitement. My male GSD shreds toys, so there is not much left of them in a day or two.
However, what the male GSD also does, is simply take all the other dogs' toys and it is quite humorous to see him collecting the individual piles into one large pile for himself alone. Then he sits by the pile, guarding it and grinning. You can see him thinking, "This is mine, and this, and this, and this..."
The other female dogs do not challenge his male ideas of superiority.
I find it quite interesting in how they defer to him, in spite of the fact that he is the youngest of the three. Women'slib has not reached the farm animals. But none of the dogs are big on toys because we live on a farm, so there are always more interesting dog things to do like eat manure.
But when I do my Christmas baking, they are as well-behaved as could be, on their best manners, as I do give them each a warm cookie now and then, provided it isn't made out of things like chocolate, etc.
There's an old tradition/story about how on Christmas Eve, at the stroke of midnight, animals are given back the gift of speech, in memory of the animals present in the stable when Jesus was born. It is an old Russian Mennonite tradition to feed the animals in the barn a little something extra/special on Christmas Eve so I also go to the barn Christmas Eve to do that.
Not so much special you can do for some animals but I chopped up apples and fed them to the horses piece by piece. Their regular food, combined with Front Runner, is good quality, and you can't feed them too much of Front Runner, so it is the apple treats that they particularly love.
The feral cats in the barn get the treat of canned food as opposed to dry.
This is probably just me, but I always feel as if the animals all know it is a special, holy night.
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