It seems I just get my nerves nicely unjangled and that loathesome mule's name pops up again. With his energy level he could be in Argentia by now if he put his mind to it, but no, he's got to stay in the same province as me, and the woman has to keep asking about his dastardly muleish self.
Sheila, who runs PrimRose Donkey Sanctuary, told the woman that TJ's socialization is coming along well and he is becoming more comfortable with humans. In fact, he now has his own personal volunteer who comes to work just with his tiny horrible self and she is patiently convincing him that humans are not all bad. She is even able to stroke him on his tiny goat-like chin - which begs the question, who on earth would want to? He receives much ooohing and aaahing for his efforts, which in my opinion is just over the top. He's quite smug enough already. Jack's take on this is "Huhhh, I'm reservin' judgement on that boy. I still think he's mosly outlaw". Part Tasmanian Devil is more like it.
It gets worse, though. A friend of the woman's who lives with Nacho the donkey came over in the spring and took many photos of us. Some of these have been entered in a photo contest and I have a sinking feeling TJ might bamboozle the judges into giving his photo a ribbon. His photo is a closeup of his black, beady eye. It is NOT dark, liquid and mysterious as the humans claim. Mine is a closeup of my distinguished grey muzzle. It is NOT bulbous, whiskery and dusty as TJ claims. The woman is using her limited skills to get them posted here - it could take time.
On the homefront, we've been a tremendous help in getting ready for winter (I shudder at the very word). She gathered all sorts of branches and leaves in a pile in the paddock and we spread them far and wide to help them dry out. Surely she wants them as winter fodder for us? I didn't care for her tone when she discovered how hard we had worked. She is also spreading a lovely gravelly dirt mixture in some of the low spots and before she can tip it out of the wheelbarrow, we throw ourselves on it in an attempt to help compact it. "Geroutofthatyoueejits", she bellows, which is a fine way of expressing her gratitude, I don't think. Nevertheless, we remain unstinting in our generous attempts to help. That's just the donkey way.