Wednesday, July 29, 2009

This and That

Yes. Well. Jack had a marvellous time "writin" on what he calls my "blob" and I'm glad he got a chance to fill you in on some of his misadventures and trials. Egads, what a full and sometimes alarming life! Of course, I'm stuck doing daily battle with the woman for my rights but it somehow pales by comparison. I liked Sheila of PrimRose Donkey Sanctuary the minute I met her but now I have an even greater insight into what goes on there in terms of helping needy donkeys. It's a whole other world, I'm afraid.

"mrs primrose", as Jack calls Sheila, got the woman up to date on sanctuary news today, including the fact that TJ is allowing himself to be bribed into human contact as long as he is fed a steady stream of cinnamon hearts. I'm not surprised at his choice of bribe; sugary but with a strong, spicy finishing kick. He is part of the rougher crowd of under-ten-hands boys and they swagger around like a gang from "Westside Story" - without all that singing, thank goodness.

The extremely beauteous Annie mare is coming on Friday to take part in a weekend fundraising ride. We three boys are slicking down our eyebrows and practicing suave introductory lines. I'm not sure why. Last year she simply rolled her eyes, swished past us and got down to some serious grazing with Molly. Annie will stay for a few days before embarking like a princess onto the royal yacht (with wheels) and returning to her charges, Fred and Ginger Donkey.

I hope my correspondent, Uncle Ed, is feverishly at work on my ark. It's been so wet here we're all beginning to have layers of pale green mould growing on us. Those of us with desert origins need a few of those days that blister paint and cause the woman to steam slightly while toiling away in our rooms. I like my four feet planted firmly in the hot sand.

Sunday, July 26, 2009

And Now A Word From Jack

our frend billie what hails from a carolina ast for a update on my life and times so here i am. the little fella finds my dialec a tad hard to translate so i figgered i'd jest do it miself, tho words ain't no spechulty of mine .

things here is reel good fer a ole man like miself and i'm feeling like a donkey reborned - not a day over four an a haf. mi coat went back to bein a shiny blak colour this summer and mi feet is jest perfec and i'm tole i even have some extra paddin over mi ribs. all i kno is i got so much energee that i jest has to cut loose mos evenins and rip snort around like a rebel. the young lad - i usualy calls him sonny on account his name is so high class no one can hardlee spell it or say it. well anyway he says i'm near to givin him papatations cus i rassel so good. holy smokers, that boy breethes some heavy when i git him runnin.

i tell him he needs ta relax his mind cos its spinnin a mile a minit. he studies everythin and gits hissself in a state over pritty near whatevers goin. theres so much nowlege crammed in between his ears im serprised there ain't smoke comin out. that caint be good for a body. mine you, he aint lost no weight threw all his frettin. that boy packs her in good at dinnertime. he's a fine boy tho and a grand frend to me. i near to give up on everthin til i met him and now he fills up a big space in mi hart.

heres how i come to be here. i was a grown donkey when i was took to a place what give rides to people (some of em too heavy fer me) and i went in perades and so on. i done this fer twenny seven years with my fren Hoolio, a real small fella who was my age. it were a bizzy place with young folk workin there in the summer and in the evenins when the boss didn see, some rough type young fellas used to play rodeo on mi back - they yelled and kicked me and smacked at me til i threw em off. i guess they had fun but i sure as heck didn. thas another reason mi back is so swayed.

then about six, seven year ago me and Hoolio and some ponies what had werked fer all them years was what they call retireed. we was took a mile from the place to a fiel and cut loose. old Hoolio took it so hard he jus lay down an died after three weeks an my heart jus folded up to the size of a pebble. i stood over him til the humins came and took him awy - i didn want no low down coyotes gettin at him. i et nothin fer days an them ponies picked at me and kep me outta the small shelter and mi teeth got neglected and mi feet too and then i stayed so wet fer so long i got a rot type thing on mi body and some lice set up shop an mi feet growed all funny and i near gave up hope.

one day in the middle of the cold seeson that lady from the primrose donkey place showed up and took us all away. they spoke kind and carried me into the moving box caus i was too shakee to do it miself. then she commenced to restorin mi health. i hav a thing called a murmering hart and was eemaciatied so they cooked me all kinds a stuf to git me some weight on. a few week later along come a vitinery gal - no red hare on this one - and they doped me up and went to cleanin mi teeth. i tel ya the smell even made me turn green. that vit gal had tears in her eyes cos she never seen nothin lik it and it took three sessions to get all the plaks off mi teeth an to haul out the rotten ones. i had a buncha abcessssess and all in all eatin wernt easy. then they got after the things that was growin on me. i began ta git some hope goin but i never palled up with none of them other donkeys. ta be onest, i was still missin Hoolio.

then one fine day in earlee summer las year bak i go in the movin box. oh no i sez to miself, i'm goin bak to that fiel. but no, we drove and drove and when the door open, i was at this heer place. and who do i see in the fiel? fer sure its Hoolio i think. i git closer an it aint Hoolio but sonny boy and after a few minits i start to like his company a lot - hes quiet and gentel and excep fer all that thinkin, he's a jim dandy charakter. we been close buddies ever since.

him and the woman argues all the time tho her and me get on real good. she says to everyone - give jack whatever he wants an they do it. i git spechul food and lots of it and have mi own room with a big bed. fer all there bickerin as soon as the woman or sonny boy are outta site of each other, why, arent they lookin for the other one. makes me believe ones as crazee as the other. sonny boy aint never lived no where else an he thinks he has it hard like here - i tole him about what i wen threw and he caint hardlee believe it. between you and me and the fencepost, he's jest a bit what ya called indulged.

the molly mare is fine - she's a full sister to the woman from what i can tell - look the same, ack the same - bossee but frenlee. doc is big boss and looks out for us all - ya jest gotta do what he sez and everhthins smooth. i like the dog jest fine and spen lotsa time tryin ta straiten her tale. cats is good too but who ever knos what a cat is thinkin. the male humin gotta a lot a time fer me and him and me are real close.

so there ya go. this here is mor words then i used in a lifetime but now ya kno some a mi storee. the woman took some piktures a me today so you can see mi new blak coat.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

She Just Won't STAY Fired

Honestly, what is wrong with the woman? Here we were having a perfectly grand time with Marianne when who should show up like a tax bill but Herself with Molly in tow. Was I not clear enough when I dismissed her? I will simply stare through her until I can fashion a new scheme to deal with her irresponsibility.

Molly is so full of herself we could tie a string to her, let her float aloft and sell advertising space on her gigantic inflated head. You'd think she'd scaled Kilamanjaro single-hoofedly, carrying a load of bricks - in reality it was worse - she had to carry the woman. I mean, really, it was only the Adirondacks. She's still blathering on about her two new boyfriends and her BFF (???), Annie.

We boys had a mainly restful time, punctuated by Doc screaming Molly's name out on an hourly basis. Might as well live with Stanley Kowalski. Marianne is not stingy with the hay and assured the woman we are the most sociable group for whom she has ever chambermaided. The woman calls us a group of micro-managing social directors. A perfect example of why we prefer Marianne.

When Molly hopped out of the trailer, we three boys began a chorus of greetings that could be heard in Manhattan. We snuffled her all over and she did indeed smell like someone who had just returned from several sweaty days in the mountains. Doc could not contain himself and performed a happy dance that consisted of running in circles whilst leaping in the air like a spring lamb. He then herded Molly out to pasture as if she'd never been here before. Molly just looks like the world-weary traveller -if she chewed gum, she'd be popping it. She slept so deeply last night that her snores rattled the windows.

The woman did corner me and skritch my ears and make disgusting kissing noises on my nose in an effort to get some sort of detente underway. If she goes so far as to employ carrots as a peace offering my resolve will be severely tested.

Thursday, July 16, 2009

That's It - She's Fired!

And about time, too. I've been extremely lenient about the shocking lack of attention I've received lately but enough is enough. It's one thing their returning from a leisurely vacation empty handed (of donkey presents). They had other things which are of no earthly use to me - for example, a large portable rain-proof dome and some ridiculous shoes for human feet. HOWEVER, I take great umbrage at being casually dismissed for the last several days because the woman and Molly are embarking on their annual clomping-off-to-the-mountains trip.

First, Molly got special metal shoes with golf cleats on the heels. We three boys only got the usual rasp and file treatment. This is not a pony who should have shoes. Her already annoying habit of rapping on her stall door has turned into a veritable " strum und drang" session every evening at dinner time. Then the woman shrieks "stopthatrightnowori'llsellyoutothegypsiesfordogfood". Most uncivilized and reminiscent of those dreadful after-Christmas stampedes I've heard of on the radio thingy.

Then - you won't believe this one - Molly the ATV pony got a chiropractic adjustment. First one I've seen and if you ask me, that man had his work cut out for him. Molly loved it and only gave a startled grunt when her neck made a sound like a cracking two by four. Of all the nonsense I've been forced to witness, this is the limit. Jack calls it "jest high class rasslin" and I believe he's correct.

Now, the trailer is being packed with enough supplies to keep a Lewis and Clarke expedition going for a year. Molly oversees from her side of the fence, looking very smug, and reminding the woman to pack adequate food supplies, including treats, special powders, mints and other dainties. Honestly. That pony could live off her blubber until the snow flies.

The last straw (oh wait, I think she packed that for Molly as well) came today when I sidled up to the woman and asked for my eleventh ear rub of the day. I usually average about fifteen. She said "Sheaffer, I just don't have time. I'll make it up to you when I get back." Oh no she won't. I dismissed her on the spot. We are having the far superior Marianne in to see to our needs and I plan to offer her the position full-time. I think I've been more than reasonable but how much more could a donkey be expected to bear?

Saturday, July 11, 2009

This Is Most Inconvenient

And inconsiderate. The two resident humans left town last Monday for a trip to the Nation's Capital and did not notify me until they were about to embark in their motorized vehicle. I stood at the fence, absolutely stunned, and called for them to return immediately. They simply drove off in a cloud of dust. They returned today and I am shunning them for the forseeable future, especially as they went to museums and excluded self and Jack. I love museums, just not the ones Jack calls "all modreen and new fangled". Give me an acre or so of dusty mummies or ancient pottery and I'm a donkey in my element. I'm extremely hurt by their callousness.

We had the human called Jamie caring for us and there are no complaints in that department. The woman leaves a list of instructions, wants, needs, peccadillos, preferences and must haves that he follows to the letter. She even gave him a course in how to cook Jack's dinner. As you may be able to tell, he is a donkey man to the core and is far superior to Herself in every way. We would like to do a swap but she seems to be relentlessly un-swapable. Like a bad smell, she just keeps finding her way back.

Sally greeted her with a lavish display of purring and rolling on the floor but we have maintanined a stoney silence. It irks her no end. Best of all, Sally keeps inadvertently scaring the woman half to death by playing with large bumblebees. The bees land in the hay storage to scout around and Sally amuses herself by pushing them down with her paw and slowly releasing the pressure to see if they are still there. They are, and growing more apoplectic by the second. The woman tries to distract Sally but the result is that Sally simply releases her hold and the bee makes- well, a bee line - for the woman, causing her to do a series of frantic backwards leaps into the hay storage gate. Highly entertaining, especially when Molly is holding the gate firmly shut with her muscular muzzle.

I haven't decided when I will resume communication with the woman but plan to make her suffer for a sufficiently long period of time. We didn't even get guilt presents this time. She must be made to pay.

Saturday, July 4, 2009

A Sweet Surprise on a Sweltering Day

I think I mentioned a while back that my generously girthed friend CindyLouWho, a magnificent, grey edifice of a horse, sent me a surprise package to relieve the monotony of my days. Her mission was wildly successful and we four equines are now addicted to a wonderful food called Gummy Worms. Along with those came some of our favourite white mints and, a first for us, some pink mints that deliver a satisfyingly strong jolt.

I had been forewarned of the impending arrival of a surprise package and so was expecting the brown box on wheels that appeared in our driveway. A cheerful sort of male human said he had a package for Sheaffer - that's me - and all four of us crowded the fence to oversee the delivery. The driver complimented all of us on our shiny coats and friendly demeanor but instead of handing me the box, he entrusted it to Herself.

I began to stalk off in an offended manner but the woman said I could go into the barn with her and help to unwrap the parcel. I brightened up considerably. Jack and I went inside and the horses were left out, which is the proper state of affairs. With much fumbling of the hoofpick and general clumsiness, she finally got the box open. We gasped at the treasure within. A round container with colourful stringy things in it and a label that said: VERMIFUGE DEFENSE. There were instruction, too, and these said:

HIDE THESE GUMMY WORMS IN THE BACK OF YOUR ROOM, IN THE CORNER, WHERE THE WOMAN NEVER GOES. WHEN YOU SEE HER HEADING TOWARDS YOU WITH THAT 'VERMIFUGE LOOK' IN HER EYE, GET YOUR MOUTH FULL OF THESE AND, WHEN SHE GETS NEAR YOU, LOOK HORRIFIED AND SPIT THEM OUT AT HER FEET. TELL HER THAT SHE HAS GOTTEN SO SCARY, SHE SCARED THE WORMS RIGHT OUT OF YOU! THAT SHOULD TEACH HER!

CLW (CINDY LOU WHO)



Utterly brilliant. as you can see. The plan came apart when she opened the lid, let us smell the contents and said "You can try some with your dinner". There is just no wresting control from the resident despot. She showed us the other two bags that were nestled in the box and they said "Canada Mints" and had a charming illustration of a group of donkeys underneath. How utterly civilized. She opened the bag of pink mints and passed them around. Molly inhaled hers, Doc made faces but ate his, Jack said nothankyouhe'dstickwiththewhiteones and I sniffed mine thoroughly and then slid it into my mouth. Like a fine old cheese or well-aged bottle of port, the taste built slowly, finishing in a blast of what I believe is called wintergreen. My eyes watered a bit and I sneezed a few times and the woman said I looked like an Archbishop taking snuff. It was all most satisfying.

She broke out the Gummy Worms with dinner, as promised, and they were a sensation. Molly inhaled hers like spaghetti, Doc spat his out and picked it up several times before finally deciding it wasn't dangerous, Jack refused to make eye contact with his and I snorted and retreated to the back of my stall. The woman put four of the gift worms in my bowl for me to examine at my leisure. I took my time but after touching one with the tip of my tongue, I proceeded to explore further. Texture: strangely slippery. Taste: fruity, with flowery undertones. Conclusion: excellent and now a staple in a well-balanced donkey diet.

Of course, these gift items - correction, MY gift items, are being doled out like the rarest truffles, in very small quantities and not frequently enough. Oh well, I suppose 'tis enough to fleetingly taste the foods of the gods.