We are enmeshed in the process called "spring thaw", which sounds quite nice until you actually try to set hoof outside. As far as the eye can see, a glutinous layer of deep mud covers a shrinking layer of ice. Donkey hoofs are not designed for these sorts of barbaric conditions. Jack and I venture forth and are immediately sucked down to knee-level by unseen forces. We flail around and make our way back to the run-in, legs covered with black goop .
The horses don't care one iota about the mud and gallop around like idiots, covering themselves and us with the stinking mire. Jack says he's heard of donkeys being sucked right down to the centre of the earth, their bones only coming to the surface as the gloop dries. He is sometimes prone to exaggeration but I think he's quite accurate in this case.
As if this mud scenario isn't enough to give a donkey sleepless nights, Sally has developed a tremendous case of spring fever and plays in her gym all night long. She bats the mouse in the spinner up to particle acceleration speeds and the thing makes an incessant "zzzziiiiizzzz, zzzziiizzz noise. When she is satisfied with that element, she begins whacking something called a cat tree, which features spheres filled with ball bearing-like objects. Then she gets out the mouse with the squeaker and roughs him up. Finally, she begins a one-cat field hockey game with the collection of hard plastic balls that are filled with bells. The cacophany is deafening.
Jack is rather deaf and sleeps through it all and Molly is so intent on her beauty sleep that she simply tunes it out. Doc and I have developed carry-on luggage bags under our eyes and spend the day in a state of fog. We love Sally dearly and don't begrudge her her delayed kittenhood but I will certainly welcome the warmer weather.
I am busy planning my party and keep the woman hopping with suggestions and "must haves". One of the latter was that Sheila from the PrimRose Sanctuary has to attend and she promises she will be there, with several donkeys in tow, including the venerable PrimRose who started the whole sanctuary years ago. And now, back to my stall to work on the master plan not, as herself says, "continue the devious plotting."