Wednesday, March 26, 2008

Who Will Rid Me Of This Turbulent Mule?

I know, I know. Henry the Eighth said it about Thomas More and he said priest and not mule. But I know exactly how he felt. We both suffer(ed) from the same ominous, everpresent, pestilent force that makes every waking moment a struggle.

Our paddock looks like the Mississippi Delta in flood season. If it weren't for the floating blocks of ice, I'm sure we could grow a bumper crop of rice. This means that I must navigate my way around very, very carefully or risk an impromptu soaking. There I was, at the edge of the lake at the barn door, planning a clever route of three steps along the side of the barn, a hop onto a small island and a larger leap into the run-in. I was so engrossed in my calculations that I failed to hear the sound of tiny hoofs approaching at mach3. A shrill voice screamed "Incoming, get outta my way, lard butt" and I was launched violently into the middle of the lake. TJ trampled me underfoot and made it into the run-in, bone-dry, where he did a victory dance.

It didn't stop there. The people-door to our run in is tied back during the day so it doesn't flap around and TJ has taken great joy in pulling on the string and wiggling the door with his nose. Today I was making a hasty run for the barn, with the mule-cockroach on my tail. Imagine my surprise when I attempted to escape into the run-in and encountered a closed door. He had cunningly worked the string off the handle and slammed the door. The results were predictable - my profile is now considerably flatter. The crash was made even worse by his entire weight, combined with high speed, magnifying the overall impact. He said it didn't hurt a bit and why did I appear to have steam coming out of my ears. Gahhhh!

Now I understand the saying "Mad as a March hare", they're referring to TJ.

3 comments:

robert5721 said...

Shaeffer, one of those Henry guys had a deal with a tower and a carrot slicer that removed heads from his pestilent enemies....you ought to think about it....maybe it was a wife or two, but you get the general idea. He also would take the head, after removal in the carrot slicer, and put it on a pole on a bridge to his house to scare off other idiotic beings that might bother him. One of my favorite books in Machiavelli's The Prince"....I should send you a copy of it to broaden your strategies list of how to deal with things. I think TJ already has a copy of it.
Mr Gale
PS. gave you a rave review on the blogspot thing....smile....

Anne said...

Hi Shaeffer
I was hoping that the poor neglected donkey had some how found his way out of that horrible place he dwells. How kind of your "person" to keep a watchful eye.
Sorry for your white water rapid experience.. maybe you should consult the "man of the house" I have seen him on a kayak and he navigates quite well for such a tall two legged creature!
I myself have to face the rivers of tepid water around our barn as well. As you know, although the snow and ice are much fun and cause spontaneous ugly faces from Mocha, when Tucker I and start our games.. the stagnant water is not to my liking. Fast running, raging rivers in the Adirondacks, now that is more my style. Ask Molly about those!
We are still on a bit of a holiday as there remains quite abit of snow to navigate through and ice under foot. My Women tried to take me out the back acreage and I just about had a heart attack... Plus I had to carry her!! What was she thinking!!!
Tucker is acting quite like the wild horse he once was and I feel if she does not start his "back in the saddle" time, she will be in for a surprise. He is one smart equine.
Here's to a brilliant spring!!
Smokey :-)

ponymaid said...

Mr. Gale, thank you for the wonderful review! Much appreciated. And Fred and Ginger's as well. I like the head-on-a-stick idea - sounds like those things small humanoids ride around on, pretending it's a horse. TJ's head is cute enough - it just might work.

Smokey, when are you coming to visit? We need some levity around this mule-centric place. A warning though - the mud and slush are enough to suck the hoofs right off an equine. I should be in the house while till this nonsense dries up - and so should you.