Monday, August 17, 2009

A Wonderful Visit, A Thwarted Escape

As promised, Willy and Roberta Donkey sent over their delegation of humans yesterday in a brave but vain attempt to release me from servitude at the hands of Herself. And what superior humans they are! They arrived bearing gifts for us and for the donkeys of the PrimRose Sanctuary and were full of compliments for all - not a mention of donkey cellulite or a snide remark about donkey waistlines. Note to woman - good breeding is either present, or in her case, conspicuously absent.

These superior beings rushed from their vehicle to our paddock and immediately presented us with hostess gifts of gummi worms and Stud Muffins. Herself confiscated the gifts and stowed them in the tack room, rationing the amount the visitors were allowed to feed us. Philistine. We were in the midst of a lovely visit when she comandeered them and dragged them off to lunch on the lawn. I was deep in conversation with Uncle Ed and was not pleased to be rudely interrupted by yet another of her whims.

They managed to break free eventually and back they all came to take us for a donkey stroll. By now they had been joined by Mosby's human, whom I have known since the age of a few months. She brought us her usual thoughtful gift of Tic Tac mints. Again, good breeding... I'll say no more. Jack and I donned our strolling halters, we passed through the gate and all of us assembled on the lawn. I'm sure you can guess what happened next? Oh yes. Herself had hatched a fiendish plan which wreaked havoc and created utter chaos for the next half hour or so. I should mention that summer has finally arrived with a wallop and the temperature is hovering near ninety, with such humidity that the air is nearly liquid.


Her plan was as follows. Jack despises all things veterinary and that includes the ritual of deworming, which rolls around every three months. He regards it as an attack on his person, a ritual poisoning and something to be fought with all his strength. Herself had enlisted the reluctant visitors in an underhanded campaign to bribe Jack with bits of Stud Muffins and while he was thus preoccupied, she slid the plastic tube into the side of his mouth and shot the dewormer down his throat. It appeared to have worked very well until Jack realized what had happened and flew into a rage.

He stamped his feet, he shook his ears, he made terrible faces and he spun around in circles, until he eventually shot off down the farm lane, towing Mosby's human in his wake like a water skier. She hung on gamely until a tree came between them. She returned rope burned and panting but otherwise fine. Jack barged through the trees into a field and charged past us at approximately 93 miles per hour, still looking every inch the outraged victim of a murderous plot. The humans galloped off to the next field to arrest his progress. They engaged in a standoff until Jack agreed that Uncle Ed could catch him, but he forbade the traitorous women to even come near him.

We carried on with the walk but Jack was still boiling internally - outwardly he hadn't even broken a sweat. The humans, however, were looking distinctly dampish. Jack remained hostile to the woman until this evening when he began to thaw slightly. I'm quite impressed. I thought I was a champion grudge-holder but he outperforms me in both severity and duration when it comes to maintaining a state of the highest dudgeon. There's no angrier donkey than an ancient donkey.

The humans retired back to the lawn to take on gallons of liquid in an attempt to stave off dehydration. I know the visitors were more than willing to grant me passage out of this madhouse but Herself wouldn't hear of it. I am doomed to remain an indentured serf.

On a happier note, Penny was initially quite nervous and distant when my visitors arrived - she is a rescue dog who had a rough start in life and she feels humans must be assessed from a distance before they can safely be approached. By the time they came to our paddock she had decided they were quite acceptable and even deserving of some entertainment. To that end she put on a show of water sports in our trough that left it full of sand and dog hair. She dove in and out at high speed, she lay down in it and bit the surface, she spun in circles and she emerged like a very small black and white killer whale, water cascading off in all directions. The visitors were highly amused and even better, the woman was left muttering about having to scrub and refill the tub.

I had three gummi worms in my dinner and Jack had a Stud Muffin crumbled on top of his gruel. They are the sole evidence of the wonderful visitors who appeared and, too soon, were gone. We can only hope that one day they will make their way back to us.

19 comments:

billie said...

I remain hopeful Sheaffer - one of these days, between you and Jack, you will wear the woman down to a mere shell of Herself, and the stud muffins and gummi worms will be served free choice in gigantic brandy snifters at the backs of your rooms.

Do not give up!

South Valley Girl said...

I agree with billie, Sheaffer - perhaps, with more visitors coming and seeing your plight, you can hope one day to be treated like the well-bred donkey you so clearly are.

We haven't heard much about Sally recently; being a cat lover myself, I enjoy your tales of her antics. I do hope all is well with your ferocious barn cat.

SVG

Buddy said...

Hay Sheaffer - what an exciting visit you all had - and Jack - what an amazing donkey he is - even at his age - WOW.

I did see some other pics of a flaxen haired beauty - loved the rear end shot - oh that tail - (swoon).

Your fren

ponymaid said...

You see, Billie, your excellent breeding shines through. These delicacies should be served in volume in an appropriate vessel. I will persevere, though at times it isn't easy...

South Valley Girl, Sally is in splendid form, running the barn with an iron paw. I instructed the woman to take some images of her today - Sally was overseeing the cleaning of our rooms. She will post them on picasa. Thank you for recognizing that I am a sensitive soul trapped in an inferno of insensitivity. Please drop in for a visit any time. I need moral support.

Buddy, I can sense that your resolve is weakening. Molly was leaning into the tack room, begging for treats from one of our visitors. It worked - she received a gummi worm. Molly is not what one would ever call shy and retiring...

Buddy said...

Sheaffer - what are you talking about - my resolve weakening - was that beautiful tail and behind belong to Molly - Oh well - I guess you may be right - that behind - that tail - please don't tell her how enamored I am with her still - even after she cheated on me.

I have to ask my woman to get a dog - at my old place before we moved here - there were two dogs and one of them always bathed in my water barrel - my barrel was huge - I almost could have fit. So I did enjoy seeing the pics of your dog enjoying himself. Must plant seed in mom's head to get dog - they are most entertaining. The feral cats here enjoy drinking from my barrel but no swimming.

Your live such a glorious life. I must see about catching a train to your house.

Your fren,

Uncle Ed said...

Dear Sheaffer,

We very much enjoyed our visit with you, Molly, Doc and of course Jack. It was inevitable that we would have to spend some time with Herself and Jack's human friend. To tell you the truth they weren't as bad company as you let on, although they might have been on best behaviour to throw us off the track so to speak. We also enjoyed making friends with Penny, Sally and Violet.

In our conversation I didn't have time to tell you about the Ark's completion. I am somewhat embarrassed to say that I may have overdone it a tad. We had full ensuites adjoining the masterstables with full jacuzzis for all. Alas I did say had for when we tried to float the "Ark de Sheaffer" it sank. Apparently I forgot to plumb the jacuzzis the proper way and water came pouring in and sank like a stone dancing on water. All that work, down the drain! Not all may be lost for you seem to have a master carpenter right on your own farm. We may, with Jack's help, be able to convince Herself's spouse to help with this project. I have seen the fine work he has done with Herself's abode, so have a chat with Jack to talk to him about the ark project.

On that note how is the speedster Jack? I think Jack could give the equines at the racetrack a run for their money! You never told us he was that quick. What was in that go-go juice that Herself gave him anyway?

Again from all of us, Complete Care, Girl Friday, Winsome Wendy and myself, we thank you for inviting us to see you and we hope to do it again one day.

Uncle Ed

South Valley Girl said...

I'm looking forward to the pictures of Sally, Sheaffer - please ask Herself to give us a link, so that we can see Sally in all her ferociousness.

My little DaisyCat is also a rescue cat, with "food issues" similar to your own - the only difference being, I indulge her, while your human clearly has less sympathy for poor starving creatures.

DaisyCat is currently waging a particularly savage war against Mister Twister, her name for the little plastic zip-strip at the top of the milk carton that pulls off to open it, and her favorite in-house foe. He's small and easy to carry around, and if you whack him just right, he ROLLS, which causes all manner of hilarity in our house.

Over the years she's accumulated quite a store of Mister Twisters (collectively known as the Twister Nation), and has recently decided that the best way to discipline them is to drop them into her water dish and then drink water THROUGH them (a tactic I'm sure Penny would appreciate). This is surely some form of Kitmo waterboarding, since it's the only time she actually drinks from her water dish; the rest of the time she prefers the fresher water in the toilet bowl.

At first she only dropped the darker-colored Mister Twisters in the bowl, and I feared she was becoming a feline racist, but she quickly got past that and now happily tortures them all equally, without regard to race, color, or bottle of origin. At last count (this morning) she had 11 of them bobbing around in her dish. I can just imagine what she would do with a water trough like yours... there wouldn't be a Twister left in the time zone.

Keep the faith, Sheaffer.

With love from sunny New Mexico,

SVG

Dougie Donk said...

I am truly horrified at the level of your woman's decption of Jack! He is quite right to have shunned her. I can only hope that she has learned a lesson & is now open to a more salubrious method of deworming.

My woman does know how to treat her equines with dignity & we are now wormed using rather pleasant minty tablets. Unfortunately, her technical skills do not stretch to posting web links, but if you look up the following address, you may be able to find stockists in your part of the world:

www.equimax-tabs.com

You can then ask Jack to point your woman in the correct direction by judicious use of his hind feet :))

ponymaid said...

Oh Buddy, you are an unwilling victim of that traitor, Cupid. I warned the woman about posting that alluring shot... Do you mean to tell me you still don't have your own dog and cat? This won't do. Donkeys require at least one of each for therapeutic purposes. I groom Sally regularly and Jack spends many happy hours trying to straighten Penny's tail. Speak to your woman immediately. Try growling at her if she ignores you.

ponymaid said...

Alas, Uncle Ed, your visit was far too short. I'm sorry you saw the woman on her best behaviour - that's not like her at all, I can assure you. My ark sank, you say? My first aquatic tragedy. Oh well, I much appreciate your effort and will simply order some scuba gear instead. I have commissioned the male human to make me; bookcases, an armoire, a case for my Roman coin collection, a footstool and a mahogany feedbox. Jack is in fine fettle and feeling quite proud of himself. He feels he may have broken the landspeed record. He may be right. Fortunately his fury has abated. We hope to repeat our wonderful day with you at your earliest convenience and this time there will be no mistake - I will return home with you.

ponymaid said...

Dougie, Jack is very much onside with "pointing the woman in the right direction" with his back hoofs if she tries to "poison" him again. Chewy minty dewormers? Do you live on another, far superior planet? We have never heard of anything so civilized but Herself will be researching this immediately, I can assure you. Have you heard of gummi worm dewormers by any chance?

ponymaid said...

South Valley Girl, Daisy sounds eccentric enough to be a donkey. She seems to be a highly focused collector who likes to interact with her collection. Sally is a collector and sometime consumer of insects. She finds moths somewhat dusty, spiders too toxic but flies just right, with a satisfying buzzing on the palate and crunchy finish. I would be most interested in meeting Daisy. Herself sturggled mightily and put cat pictures in my picasa album. Please note that Violet is on the garage door, speechifying. She is an enthusiastic if shrill orator. The photos should be at www.picasaweb.google.com If you need to enter a user name, try ponymaid.

South Valley Girl said...

Well clearly Herself has more computer skills than I do, because all I got when I went to that link was an invitation to open a Picassa account... which I did, thinking it might get me to your pictures, but I've searched on SHEAFFER, DONKEY, PONYMAID, and SALLY, and come up empty. Any pointers for this Google-challenged gal?

SVG

Bouncy Dog said...

Hello South Valley Girl,
If a Cat Lover doesn't mind taking advice from a Poodle, you need to go to www.picasaweb.google.com/ponymaid
You were sooooo close !

P.S. I like Cats too ! I keep my Kitty Kat Pics on my Auntie Gazelle's Picasa, same as above but /gazelle600 at the end.

Nice "meeting" you !
Presto

South Valley Girl said...

Hey there Bouncy Dog - thanks so much for the tip, I've found the site and will now take a look at the pictures of Sally - and then yours, too.

I'll have DaisyCat whack a Mister Twister in your honor tonight!

SVG

South Valley Girl said...

Well my goodness - I've been through the gallery now, and I must say, Sheaffer, you are extremely photogenic. I tried not to look at some of the less dignified shots (what on EARTH was that on your head? an antenna?), as I imagine it's painful for you to remember them, but overall I thought you exuded... an elder statesdonkey kind of air.

While Jack is, admittedly, older in years, I detect a world weariness in you that belies you chronological age, and I was happy to see so many visiting humans giving you the respect you so richly deserve. One can only hope that Herself will someday join that crowd.

SVG

Buddy said...

Hay Sheaffer - I have many cats - one especially is nice - Hoover - mom just adopted him. He is very nice and plays in my paddock sometimes with me. We have drinking contests - he stands on the edge of my water barrel and drinks and I drink - we try to knock each other out of the barrel but he has alot of balance that one. He jumps on my back once in a while - scares me.

Now I need a dog - sigh!

Your Fren

ponymaid said...

South Valley Girl, thank you for your kind words. The THING (monstrosity) on my head was a set of antlers. Words fail me. You are correct in thinking that I arrived in this world as an old soul - even Jack says I need to do more "tarryhootin around". I cannot, however, change who I am, and will continue to ruminate and contemplate deeply. As to Herself showing me some respect - hmmm, possibly when hades becomes an icefield.

Buddy, I am relieved to hear you already have a substantial cat collection. Your water trough encounters are fascinating to say the least, though having a feline launch itself onto your back...well, I'm not too sure about that. Remember to lobby non-stop for your own canine.

Buddy said...

Hay Sheaffer - I'm doing my best to get my own dog. The neighbor has one that he doesn't pay much attention to - mom is thinking of asking him if she can some and live with me. I'll keep you posted as to how that goes. Her name is Dixie and she is a white Boxer dog. A great watch dog - she barks at mom all the time. Her and I have conversations over the fence - she is very nice.

Your fren,