I'm Back - Finally

I haven't exactly been away, except down the farm lane with visitors, but Herself has been so distracted by various things that I haven't been able to chivvy her into doing my transcribing. I obviously need more than one secretary.

We have had visitors from all geographic directions and every last one proved to be a donkeyphile. I have advised the Woman to keep a list of those who are coolish toward Jack and self and to subtlely allow them to slide off the bottom of the list. My plan must be working.

The first group of visitors was Sheila with volunteers Laurel and Christine and Margaret who ran the bake sale at my birthday party. As you can imagine, that was a most satisfactory visit. The only real downside was that we were not invited to dine "at table" with them. Our next group of donkey visitors consisted of two adult humans and Erin, my lifetime friend and her colleague, Alice. Erin is still the only human to have sat upon my back many years ago. They devoted their entire visit to us and when they weren't grooming us, feeding us tasty morsels or walking us down the path, they simply sat in the shade closeby and admired our sheer donkeyness. The Woman dubbed them the Donkey Handmaidens. How we wish they lived nearby. I do have one serious complaint about their visit - they went to Stratford to see "The Tempest", with Christopher Plummer as Prospero. I am bitterly disappointed to have been left behind - she knows I have committed all of Shakespeare's works to memory and I am outraged at the slight.

The next group of humans are some sort of relations to the woman - same breeding on the dam's side, I gather. These were micro-humans and what they lacked in donkey wisdom they made up for with enthusiasm. I should note that under a certain size, human offspring have quite sticky hands and are disposed to share any food substance in their possession - some of it is even edible. Most recently, Annie the Glamour Horse appeared with her human to accompany Molly and Herself on the 25km ride to battle cancer. I'm afraid Jack still has "feelings" for the beauteous one and am afraid they continue unreciprocated. On the brighter side, Susan, one of my human friends, designed shirts of a royal purple hue with my photo on the back (in my crown and sash) and those were the official "Team Sheaffer" apparel for the ride.

We have a few more herds of humans due before end of summer and although I enjoy the diversion, I could wish for better transcription service for the duration. I'm off to continue basking in the heat and humidity. Herself is off to lie like a beached Orca in front of the fan. Plus ca change...

Let Your Outrage be Known

I checked the calendar and yes, apparently it is 2010 but somewhere in Russia they feel that animal torture and cruelty is not only highly amusing but a fine idea for promoting a business enterprise that depends on attracting tourists.

Here is what happened. Some emotionally and morally deficient humans thought it would be a grand idea to attach a terrified donkey to a giant wing/sail affair and to launch him out over the ocean. The shaking, crying, terrified animal was thus sent aloft where his cries could be heard by all who thought they were at the beach to have a relaxing day in the sun. The humans who perpetrated this "prank" were highly pleased with the result, not caring where the donkey might land or even if he would survive the landing. Miraculously, he did.

The film clip of this shameful event can be seen at: http://news.nationalpost.com/2010/07/21/parachuting-donkey-frightens-russian-beachgoers/
Please be warned, it is not for the faint of heart or for anyone who knows and loves donkeys.

In this country the Russian Ambassador can be reached at ambassador@rusembassy.ca
By all means, let him know your thoughts on this act of animal cruelty and how it reflects on the country as a whole. If you live in another country, please direct your thoughts to the Russian Embassy there. We can't turn back time but we can let it be known that in this age of omnipresent cameras, this sort of idiocy will most likely be seen by a world-wide audience.

Doc Is Gone! (For a Month)

And it was all very spur of the moment, I must say. The woman came out to the paddock to fetch Molly for a forest ride and Molly, being quite naughty, demured and skipped around just out of reach. Given the heat and humidity, after a few rounds the woman began to have second thoughts. She looked like a boiled, frustrated tomato.

Throughout this drama, Doc had been shadowing the woman, pleading to be the one to be taken somewhere, anywhere. He does love his play days. So the woman snapped the lead onto his halter, groomed him, tacked him up and off they went in the metal box on wheels. Molly was dumbstruck. Served her right, too.


Doc and Herself went to Mosby's place and he was very excited indeed. So excited that he bellowed and cavorted and generally acted like a madman. He was so distracted that when Emi (Mosby's human) tried to ride him past Ben and Jerry Donkey's paddock, he spun and bolted - twice! The woman was utterly disgusted and embarrassed and dragged him back to the fence, whereupon his brain finally began to function and he said "Hey, donkeys, cool!" and tried to pull them through the rails.

The woman made an on-the-spot decision, asking if Doc could stay for a month to help him get over his lack of exposure to outside influences. He has stayed at Mosby's barn over many a winter in the past and it was felt he would soon be comfortable there. So. He has now settled in nicely and the woman is referring to it as his month at summer camp. I suppose he will come home with various crafts, including macramed pot holders, birch bark keychains and a name plaque with his name spelled out in sticks. Sigh. We'll never hear the end of it.

Molly is one very contrite Haflinger and is begging to be caught every time she sees the woman. I think she knows she was the initial cause of all this uproar. Jack and I are looking on the bright side - maybe she'll be sent to summer camp and we'll have the place to ourselves.

Dental Assault, But at Least It's Warm for a Change

Jack and I feel that we have been having wonderful weather - 102 degrees last week. The others are moaning and staggering about and disolving into puddles as the day wears on. We donkeys have not even broken into so much as a light perspiration. Honestly, what a fuss. Herself has purchased an industrial fan for the run-in and a mesh style gate for Molly's stall front so she has more air circulation from the fan in the aisle. Just grazing in the field last week Molly was soaked from mane to hoof and even had some lather on her sides. These alpine types just can't take anything resembling decent warm weather.

I feel I should share my dental encounter with my readers so you can see how obsessed the woman is with causing me discomfort. My teeth are perfectly fine but every year she has the medical types look in there and decide if anything needs maintenance. Fortunately Doc and Molly went first so I had some time to strategize. They both behaved disgracefully, succumbing to the stupefying agent immediately - Doc even leaned his whole body on the wall like some boozy barfly on a bender. Molly lolled her tongue and could barely keep her feet under her.

By the time the veterinarian got to me, I was ready. I declined the needle in the neck quite forcefully but still got jabbed. He apologized but I detected an whiff of incincerity. I fought the damnable potion and managed to remain fairly alert. Jack was greatly distressed and hammered on the door whilst making a series of wild and dreadful noises. When he threatened to climb over the door to rescue me, the humans decided my teeth should be attacked in the run-in where he could see me but leave if he wished. He hovered like an anxious and ancient nanny throughout.

I confess, once the procedure was underway it proved to be not too terrible. Some filing here , some rasping there and it was done. The vet declared that I had the whitest, hardest, smallest teeth he had seen in ages. He doesn't know that I floss daily with a variety of twigs and never eat immediately before bed. Jack said the man was a hired asassin and wasn't getting anywhere near his teeth or in fact any part of his anatomy. Jack's dental plan remains flexible, with his remaining teeth left unmolested unless he shows signs of dental distress. He says they'll learn a thing or two about distress if they try to pry his jaws apart...

Further News on the Auction Three and A Half

Sheila and the donkeys were interviewed by one of the major newspapers yesterday so hopefully even more humans can read about the good work she is doing at PrimRose. Many photos were taken and much written down and I look forward to perusing the finished work. When I discover the publication date I will let my blog friends know.

The three and a half newcomers are generally doing quite well. Little Annabelle has had a bath with Tea Tree oil after her delousing with powder and she quite enjoyed it's soothing properties. Jack had those things living on him when he got to Sheila's and he said they made him not only itchy but sapped his strength, which was already low. Annabelle will have a needle stuck in her person to ascertain if she truly is pregnant - good grief, can't they just ask her instead of treating her like a pincushion?? If she proves to be "with child" she will then have an ultrasound (which sounds much more civilized) to determine date of arrival.

Unseen forces may be at work because, as Annabelle was a complete surprise to the woman when she got to the auction, poor Elvira Donkey who has lived at PrimRose for awhile now, was diagnosed with a nasty abdominal tumour. She did very well for a time but is now withdrawn and disinterested in her surroundings. The veterinarian explained that Elvira is in increasing pain and would prefer to slip off quietly with her friends near. Carol, her personal volunteer, is understandably devastated but has pledged to help Annabelle through her troubles. It seems they will need each other for moral support and perhaps there is a serendipitous note about all this...

KristinaRose, the baby sheep, is settling in just fine. Sheila bought her special lamb food and she is taking meds for the cold-like symptoms she picked up at the auction. If Helen is the sheep equivalent of a one hundred and nine year old great granny, then the lamb is a fractious two year old who wants to be with Helen non-stop. Helen spends much time being scandalized by the infantile behaviour but KristinaRose cares not and simply does her best to be a mini-Helen.

Leon is quite well physically, except for his feet, but those will come round with time. He would very much like to interact with humans but his past encounters have left him nervous and wary. He has a strong fear that he will be struck forcibly about the head. The poor lad slowly makes his way over for a piece of apple or carrot (both completely unknown in his former life) but the stress becomes too much and he flees before the humans can touch him. His "brain surgery" will take place as soon as the vet has time and after that he can mix in with William, one of the other boys, for company. Maybe he will learn from William that he is in a safe place and can let down his guard.

So, all is progressing as it should and one day hopefully Annabelle will have a bouncing baby equine (father unknown as yet), Leon will finally learn to trust humans and KristinaRose will achieve her goal and grow up to be just like great granny Helen.

Gayle, who posts here as Gazelle, acts as my official photographer but she is also a life-long friend to all animals. She most generously offered to pay the cost of freeing the Three and a Half from the auction and even now a cheque for their purchase price is winging it's way to Sheila (well, not winging so much as trudging through the system). Thank you Gayle for quietly making a difference.

PS - If anyone knows a non-toxic way to get the last of those dreadful auction number stickers off the newcomers, please let us know!

An Update and Some Explanation of The Auction Photos

First of all, thank you Gayle for making them viewable on the blog - Herself is not quite - well, she means well, but you know ummmm...nevermind, I'll say no more.

The jack donkey is now called Leon and is thriving at Sheila's. Turns out he's a real people person when overtures are friendly and no one offers to strike him about the head. His feet are terribly long but will come back with care. He is to have what I have heard referred to as "brain surgery" on his nether regions. Humans - just don't know their donkey anatomy. He has a festering sore under his chin, possibly from the too-tight halter he has been wearing for who knows how long and several warty growths. He is young, just six, and is rapidly coming out of his state of guardedness.

The small pregnant jenny is now called Annabelle and after a rough first night, she is settling in well. The farrier made an emergency call on Monday and best of all, though the jenny is horribly foundered, it is a "mechanical" founder (this does not mean her feet are mechanized in any way) but that it is strictly from neglect and none of the internal foot structures are harmed. The humans who consigned her sawed off the front of her hoofs in an attempt no doubt to spruce her up for the auction. She has been dusted with louse powder, has been wormed and will have a vet check this week. She is being doted on by a volunteer called Carol and spends much time with her head buried in Carol's arms.

Annabelle had a bay pony stallion friend in her pen (possibly the father of her unborn baby?), consigned by the same humans, and he too was foundered but no longer lame and had also had his halter taken away. He was extremely courteous with the jenny and the humans alike and knew how to pull a cart and carry children. He was only about ten or eleven hands high so you can see in the photos that Annabelle is truly tiny. The pony was sold for twenty five dollars - fate unknown.

The lamb is now called Kristina-Rose, after the young lady who helped load the trailer and who lent a pony halter to Annabelle (knotted twice at the crown) so she could be led. The lamb is still confused (she is only four months old but was one of the largest at the auction) and sometimes seeks the security of the carrier in which she was transported but Helen, the ancient sheep, is behaving like a great granny and bossing her around so all will be well shortly. Goliath, the small donkey who is self-appointed sheep guardian, is hovering like an expectant father outside their pen, making whuffling noises of assurance.

Laurel, the saintly volunteer who works with TJ/Virgil has offered to take some photos of the crew and send them tomorrow so we shall all be able to see them in the safety and comfort of their new digs.

Three And A Half Now Safe at PrimRose

About two weeks ago my highly-tuned senses began to pick up news of an abandoned donkey in our vicinity. The woman's brow grew more furrowed and she had many telephonic consultations with Sheila. I knew something was afoot and kept my highly receptive ears tuned for more information.

In brief, a young male donkey had been caught in the middle of a nasty family fracas and had been unceremoniously turned loose to fend for himself, near a highway, for two weeks. Finally, he was caught and turned over to someone who holds such foundlings for the town for thirty days until they are claimed or sold at auction. Sheila and the woman desperately tried to speak with the powers that be, offering to buy the foundling so he wouldn't have to endure another traumatic experience and would be assured of a happy future. No response was forthcoming and the wall of silence remained unbreached so the poor lad went off to a livestock/meat auction last Saturday.

Sheila was embroiled in a fundraiser at the same time and so Herself volunteered to go to the auction, on Sheila's behalf, in an attempt to purchase said donkey. She was joined by some other donkey rescue troops who formed a determined cadre, bent on emerging with donkey in tow. The weather behaved disgracefully, with the skies opening in a tap-like fashion and refusing to shut off all day. The auction site was a horror of mud and mire and crying animals.

And there they found the soaking wet donkey, along with four horses, in the only outdoor pens at the place. A short time later, a small, bedraggled female donkey was thrust into another pen. She was lice-ridden, pregnant and foundered and her consignors thought so little of her that they took her halter away with them. The group determined that she must somehow be taken to PrimRose as well.

The day wore on and it became evident that the donkeys would be the very last to be auctioned . The rain came down in buckets and the donkeys, without food for the duration and probably since the night before, stood forlornly in their pens. Finally, they were chased into the auction ring and the woman set to with some furious bidding. She said she only began breathing again when the hammer went down and the man wielding it said SOLD! in her direction.

Then began the process of getting the donkeys from the pens to the PrimRose trailer. Geographically, these are as far removed from the busy loading docks as possible. There was a moment of great concern when it was discovered the little jenny had lain down in exhaustion and defeat and didn't have the energy to stand. She was finally coaxed up and followed the young donkey lad to the trailer, reluctant to walk on the concrete because of her deformed and aching feet.

I must mention that a lamb had also been purchased by the woman as company for the ancient rescue sheep, Helen, whose equally ancient sheep friend died recently. It was felt that Helen would come out of her deep depression if another ovine companion was found. And that is how, at a meat auction, three and one half creatures out of thousands, found their way to the safety of PrimRose and not to ...well, somewhere else.