Vixen the Reindeer's Email

Every year we like to try to give our blog page a seasonal theme and in the past we have allowed our authors to give you their take on the Christmas season (with varying degrees of success).
 
This year, however, we thought we should get some contribution from the people that really make Christmas happen, the ones that live at the North Pole.
 
So we emailed Santa and asked for a contribution from himself and maybe one from the reindeer and the elves. Much to our surprise we got all three, though from Mrs Santa, rather than from Santa himself.
 
Up until 16th December we are posting the replies. They look a bit like a conversation was taking place, because when we got the emails they prompted a lot of questions, which we asked and for which we got answers. So, we edited them all together to make them easier to read.
 
Last week we heard from Nobby the Elf and this week it's the turn of Vixen the reindeer.

Hi ya, Vixen here. I’ve been elected to send this email on behalf of all of Santa’s reindeer.
 
Well, elected may be putting it a bit too strongly. It makes it sound like I had a choice. As the only female in the outfit, I tend to get given all the jobs the other reindeer don’t want to do. Which turns out to be most of them.

And for 20% less pay!
 
Yes, even up here!
 
Cupid? No, he’s not female. Let’s just say “10% of the population” and you’ll get the picture.
 
Now, the stories and movies all tell you that Rudolf is the one who doesn’t get the breaks, you know because of the … Actually, we don’t talk about that anymore. We call him “differently nasalled” and leave it at that.
 
But no. because of all the stories, Rudolf is the top reindeer these days, even though he has done very little to deserve it.
 
No, he never used his differently nasalled state to guide the sleigh. Are you kidding me? I know it’s bri… no, I better let it go.
 
I’m actually lead reindeer. There are reasons for this that all the females reading this email will understand.

If you want a male to do your bidding, just make sure he gets a good look at you from behind, which is why Santa puts me at the front. It’s the only way he can get those lazy b******s to move at all.
 
Not that I’m bitter you understand. But it would be nice to be appreciated for my intellect for a change, rather than for my superb butt.
 
And it is superb, even though I say it myself. But I’ve also got a PhD in comparative philosophies and nobody seems to take any notice of that.
 
OK, philosophy isn’t such a big deal these days, not like it was back in the old days in Greece. You know the names of all the greats from back then: Aristotle, Plato, Socrates. Even batty old Diogenes in his barrel gets a mention from time to time.
 
But name one philosopher from the 21st century! I bet you can’t. And maudlin, drunken introspection doesn’t count as philosophy.
 
But that’s enough about me. What it is it really like being one of Santa’s reindeer?
 
Actually, aside from the casual sexism, it isn’t too bad. We only work one night of the year unless some of the elves fancy a night out in Longyearbyen.
 
We all have our own stalls, with hot and cold running hay, a TV set that gets Disney+ and Netflix, Santa keeps the heating on all winter and most of the summer (it never really gets warm up here) so I guess as far as being a reindeer is concerned life isn’t too bad.
 
Let’s just say that it’s a lot more fun than living in Lapland, foraging for moss and being milked by Sami with cold hands. That’s just the females that get milked, by the way. See, more casual sexism. Mind you, Cupid probably wouldn’t mind too much if the Sami tried to milk him.
 
So, for 364 days a year we get to stay in our nice warm barn and on the 365th day we fly around the world as Santa and the elves drop off all the presents.
 
Yes, I know that scientists say that this isn’t possible. Well, scientists can go and f… have a real good think about it for a while.
 
We’ve been doing this from the dawn of time (No, nothing to do with him, we’re far older than that). So, we know we can do it. Something to do with the Big Bang apparently. Some things started to slow down afterwards, but we kept the ability to move really fast if we want to. Or if Santa wants to which, apparently, is what we really want as well.
 
As a female I really appreciate it when males tell me what I want (yes, you’re right, that is sarcasm).
 
All reindeer have this ability, by the way. But the rest of them haven’t got a fat bloke cracking a whip over their heads to encourage them.
 
How come we can fly when we aren’t very aero dynamic? Let me tell you, when you can travel the speed we do, you don’t need to be aerodynamic to be able to fly. The hard part is slowing down enough to land on a roof without sliding off the end!
 
How do you think Rudolf got his red nose?
 
Just our little joke. Actually, we don’t tell it anymore. Where do you think the term “snowflake” was invented? We got our inspiration for it locally, of course.
 
So, that’s what being one of Santa’s reindeer is all about. 364 days of munching on hay and making sure Santa doesn’t forget to lock the door to my stall, and one day of moving so fast my antlers glow.
 
Yes, I know female reindeer don’t have antlers (more sexism). But I’m one of Santa’s reindeer and he gets what he wants and he wants all his reindeer to have antlers, so antlers it is.
 
I think I carry them off quite well.
 
Our relationship with the elves?
 
Cordial, I would call it. We don’t see a lot of them apart from Christmas Eve. Unless they want a night out in Longyearbyen. Fortunately, they don’t earn enough to get drunk, so they aren’t bad passengers. There’s no vomit to clean off the seats of the sleigh unless they’ve eaten a dodgy bit of whale meat.
 
There’s one I don’t like. Grumpy little sod by the name of Nobby but he retires straight after this Christmas. Not a day to soon if you ask me. I won’t be sorry to see the back of him, I can tell you.
 
You know what he once asked me to do? The filthy little sod. He crept into my stall one night and he ….
 
(Editor’s apology. Once again the end of the email seems to have become corrupted and we have been unable to get it resent in time for inclusion on our blog page.)

The last in this trilogy will be posted next week, when we hear from Mrs Santa Claus (Santa was too busy to reply, apparently).

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