The Hippo, the Manger, and the Surprisingly Large Christmas Zoo

 

Every December, I’m reminded that Christmas is a season of traditions, songs, stories, nativity sets, and the occasional 700-pound African mammal. Yes, I’m talking about the hippo. We’ll get there.  Recently, I wrote about the real story of the Magi and why certain nativity scene animals (I'm looking at you, cows, and your 'eat mor chikin' propaganda!) probably weren’t present at the birth of Jesus. That led me down a rabbit hole, or maybe a camel hole, or whatever hole animals fall into at Christmas. Suddenly, I found myself asking: Just how many creatures have wandered into our Christmas traditions? And why is one of them a hippopotamus? 

Let’s begin with the most unlikely Christmas animal of them all. In 1953, America was introduced to a 10-year-old Oklahoma girl with a powerhouse voice and a name destined for a marquee: Gayla Peevey. Someone handed her a song so delightfully absurd that it felt like a dare, “I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas.”  It was silly. It was strange. It had absolutely nothing to do with Bethlehem, goodwill, or tinsel. Naturally, it became a hit.  Radio loved it. Kids loved it. Parents tolerated it. And before long, the song climbed the charts and turned little Gayla into a national holiday sensation.

And now… for the rest of the story.  The Oklahoma City Zoo, always looking for a good PR opportunity, launched a “Buy Gayla a Hippo for Christmas” campaign. Children across the state mailed in pennies, nickels, dimes, and by Christmas morning, the zoo had collected enough to purchase a real, living, 700-pound baby hippo. Her name was Matilda.

On Christmas Day, Gayla posed with her new hippopotamus (delivered by truck, not sleigh). The newspapers went wild. The zoo became instantly famous. And Matilda lived a long, happy life, eventually having a baby of her own.

What about Gayla? She grew up, became a teacher, wrote a few commercials, raised a family, and quietly enjoyed the fact that once a year, the entire nation still turns her childhood vocals into a holiday anthem. She has joked in interviews that people still ask whether she kept the hippo in her backyard. And now you know… the rest of the story. Thank you, Paul Harvey, and Good Day!

Next, we have the animals at the Manger. Our traditional nativity sets look like the warmup stable for Noah’s Ark. Sheep, goats, cows, camels, maybe a stray llama someone got on sale at Hobby Lobby.  But historically? Sheep would’ve been around because shepherds didn’t abandon their flocks in the fields. Goats were common in household courtyards. Donkeys likely made appearances; they were the minivans of the ancient world.

Less likely?  Cows were not typically kept in that region’s residential stables. Camels weren’t exactly loitering around Bethlehem like they are in every Christmas play. Chickens would’ve made too much noise (and too much mess).

Still, over centuries, artists and grandmothers decorating their mantels took… creative liberty. So every December, the Holy Family is surrounded by so many animals that a zookeeper is required. Then we have the Twelve Days of Christmas,  a Bird Lover’s Dream. If you’ve ever really listened to the lyrics, the song is less about romance and more about avian overpopulation. Let’s count: 1 partridge, 2 turtle doves, 3 French hens, 4 calling birds, 6 geese, and 7 swans.  By Day 6, this poor recipient is knee-deep in 23 birds, plus milkmaids, drummers, and a dangerously overconfident swan population. It’s unclear whether the relationship survived. How could it? I spent 2 weeks with one squaky Quaker Parrot; I nearly lost my mind!

Besides Rudolph (and the rest of the flying reindeer) and the occasional abominable snow creature, Christmas media is full of animals we forget about: Max the Dog, the Grinch’s long-suffering assistant. Nestor the Long-Eared Donkey. The Mouse Who Wasn’t Stirring from “ ’Twas the Night Before Christmas.” Gremlins, small, dampness-sensitive Christmas lizards. Should we include the electrocuted squirrel in the NL Christmas Vacation? And of course, the Hippo. Who can forget the hippo?

Maybe Christmas has always been an animal parade?  Between the hippo that captured a nation, the unrealistic menagerie of managers, the avalanche of gifted poultry, and the entire ecosystem living inside Christmas movies, the holiday season might secretly be the most animal-saturated time of the year. But maybe that’s the charm. Christmas invites everyone, even hippos, donkeys, mice, reindeer, and one very patient dog, to join in the celebration. That, in itself, is a gift.