Jack is putting in long hours as sanctuary overlord (by his own choice, of course) and is working hard in the field of operations and at his headquarters (the Donkey Bubble). He wields a firm but fair hoof over all species, human, donkey and other.
Sheila sent us some photos, one of which shows Jack washing the resident goat. The goat seems slightly unsure about the prodedure but Jack is adhament. I wonder where he got the idea of washing another species...? He likes the sheep as well but finds their coats impossible to launder properly. As for the pigs - he does not care for those at all and does an abrupt about turn when they waddle into his sphere of operations. He marches off at high speed, looking neither to the left nor right, until he is well clear of any porcine influence. He considers them unspeakable and unwashable.
Jack has also stepped up his supervisory role in the feed room. He glues himself to Sheila while she prepares seventeen different breakfasts and dinners, sticking so close that she can barely move her arms. He inspects and samples all foodstuffs, both before and after cooking. When everyone has breakfasted and gone on their way, he patrols the aisles and checks each stall and food bowl. Then he goes to the various gates in the barn to ensure he knows the whereabouts of every resident. He is a very busy old donkey. He takes his breaks from his self-imposed career with Simon and O'Sullivan, where they stand and munch hay in the sun. They think he is as mad as a hatter.
He continues to astonish and astound, and sometimes even alarm. He has no intention of slowing down and regards retirement as something suitable for the elderly, which he is convinced he is not. Long live the King, I say, and long may he rule.
Buddy sent along this link for Jack to peruse. Jack has completed his perusal and has announced that he plans to beat this record by several decades. I don't doubt it.
I have included some images of Molly and Sally, who have declared themselves BFFs, whatever that is. As long as Molly is washing Sally, she isn't washing me. Somewhere in the Carolinas donkeys are crafting this year's dust baths and lounging in the warm sun. Sigh.