Wednesday, October 31, 2007

Sad Time at our place

Thank you, Elfwood. I haven't written in a few days because we're all in shock over losing our white cat. Someone was speeding on the road near our farm and killed her. She is buried near the fence she used to love to sit on. We miss her so much. She was a great friend of mine and used to play in my half flake of hay at dinner time. I was careful to eat around her and even though she would pretend to strike my nose, it was always done very gently and without claws. She also like to drink out of my water bucket.

When she was buried we all stood very quietly in a line by the fence and said our goodbyes. The human woman is very upset and doesn't like being in the barn, especially in the morning when she cleans our rooms. The cat always supervised and spent a lot of time purring and being patted by the woman. I suppose now we'll be over-run by herds of mice.


Sunday, October 28, 2007

Icy Sunday

First, let me say that the appearance of that odious rap song at the top of my blog was done without consulting me. The male human still insists on calling me "Twenny Cent" at all opportunities in the mistaken belief that it has some comic value. Harumph.

Yes, as the title says, some form of solid water fell on my person around one o'clock. I was slowly making my way to the front of the paddock when a huge black cloud targeted me, expelling beads of a white icy substance in my general direction. I reversed course, but by the time I reached the run-in, the sun had reappeared. Typical.

More incomprehensible behaviour from the woman. She puts all sorts of stuff (she calls it recycling) into the wheelbarrow, to be put out with our, ahem, soiled bedding. She was busy scrubbing our buckets outside, so I examined the things in the wheelbarrow and found several of them quite delicious. I ate a piece of Potato Rosemary bread and a tea bag (orange pekoe) before she returned and began the usual carrying on. I find all her claims about recycling dubious - she's just selfish and doesn't want to share the finer things with the equines. I plan to continue my own recycling program out of her view.

Friday, October 26, 2007

Sheaffer Rap

Yo, yo, in da' barn...
My name is Mista Sheaffer
I stand all of three foot three
My crib's a cozy barn at night

During da' day it's under a tree
The horses are my main peeps
We all live in da' rural hood
Naturally, grey is my gang colour
That is just the way it should

(Scratch, scratch)

We eat lots of hay and grass
Watch the traffic on the road
Count all the rails on the fence
If I get it right, I'll explode

Don't need to carry a gat
Got protection from Big Doc
You don't ever dis' Mista Shaeff
He gonna' clean yo' clock

Well, it's time to go now
It is sad, don't flip your wig
Peace out there Bros and Sistas
Gotta' go stare at a twig

Sheaffer the Sheriff

My paddock has been invaded by a hairy, black rodent with a huge furry tail (show off). I was standing, meditating, under a tree and there was a sudden outburst of abusive invective from somewhere overhead. A small, hideous face appeared, with a corn cob clutched in it's pointy yellow teeth. It shrieked at me in a foreign language and threatened me with a clenched paw. We spent the day sparring back and forth. Unfortunately he has the unfair advantage of being able to climb.

My own tail is growing so full that I inadvertently swished it through a burr patch today. It now has at least ten hairs at the bottom, two of which the human woman clumsily broke when removing the burrs. I need a stylist. And "product", to avoid these mishaps.

Elfwood, I will bear your offer in mind - I've met the curvaceous Annie and wouldn't mind sharing a paddock with her. Herb Massey-Ferguson sounds quite intriguing as well. I like anyone who stands quietly in a shed all day. And my "Elk" friend, I like your thinking - my new motto is "All Carrots All The Time".

Thursday, October 25, 2007

Soul Sisters

This afternoon the human female took the horse female, Molly, away in a metal box on wheels that attaches to the truck. I've been in it once and it has rubber walls and windows high up so I can't see out. Our old metal horse container had exposed wiring, which made for a much more interesting trip. I spent an enjoyable evening dismantling the entire system. while on our way to and from an evening of driving practice (I didn't drive the truck, unfortunately, I was driven in a cart). Apparantly it was a terrible thing, driving home at night without lights...seems silly, I could see just fine in there. Anyway, the next time they went to use the container, there were bits of wire and colourful plastic caps everywhere. Such a fuss over my having an enquiring mind.

I'm not sure exactly what those two females get up to when they go away- something called trail riding - but they come back hot and tired and looking quite smug. It sounds horrible, all that traipsing over hill and dale to no good purpose. I should mention that although they're of two different species, they look like peas in a pod. Both are about 13.2hh, stout of leg, broad of bottom and sporting a shocking amount of out-of-control mane. They could both do with a good old-fashioned corset in my opinion.

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Well, everything is much better without rain. They're now plowing the field next to our paddock, and I love the sheer geometry of it all. An enormous tractor with a huge set of discs roars by right next to me, leaving line after line of perfect furrows. So far I've counted two hundred and fifty.

Best of all, I may be moving to England! My friend Cruiser has invited me to go and live with her. As she advised, I've acquired a gold plastic rectangle that will cover all my expenses - the human woman has too many of those plastic rectangles anyway and won't miss one. I plan to fly first class, in an extra-wide seat to accomodate my generous girth. I'll order a carrot juice beverage followed by the vegetarian twig platter. I'm looking forward to touring many National Trust sights and sampling the woodwork. What a relief that at least one person understands my inner donkey.

To underline just how ill-treated and misunderstood I am, I hid behind the barn when it was time to go in our rooms. The woman called and called and then started searching the paddock for me. Probably thought I'd been donkey-napped. While she was out there in the dusk, I slid into the barn and was standing there when she came back all out of breath. I pretended I'd been there all the time. I think it's good to force the humans to question their sanity, especially after the whole unpleasant rap incident.

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

The weather today can only be described by a four letter word. Rain. I hate to resort to profanity, but there you have it. Rain is a donkey's worst nightmare (along with plastic shavings bags, of course). We breakfasted in the run-in and then the silly horses insisted on going outside. Five minutes and I was waterlogged. Then a wind came up and all sorts of blowing leaves stuck to me. By the time it cleared in the afternoon the human female kindly assured me that I looked like part of a Halloween exhibit - I chose to take the higher road and pointedly turned my back on her.

I used to think the human male was fairly normal but since the "Rap" incident, I've changed my mind. He's posted it under "comments" for the whole world to read! Now he's taken to calling me Twenny Cent. I'm devising something equally awful to call him - possibly Plugged Nickle...

We were let in early tonight to dry out and the human female tried to towel me off. The effort is appreciated but frankly, once I'm this saturated it can take days to fully recover. She remarked that I resembled a compost heap and immediately negated all her good intentions. She tried to make amends by giving us an apple and an English mint with our dinner. I was going to boycott the obvious bribe but when I looked, both items had mysteriously disappeared. I blame the cat.

Monday, October 22, 2007

What a bizarre and confusing day. During the night the white cat brought me a gift mouse (I know it was a gift because no parts were missing) and left it in the dining area at the front of my room. When the female human came in to let us out, I was absentmindedly pushing it around on the stall mat. Well! You'd have thought it was radioactive the way she carried on. It was snatched away and buried without my being consulted. Infuriating. Wait till someone gives her a book or something... Ha, then we'll see.

Then, more ructions when she was cleaning our rooms. I made my way, stealth like, into the barn by the back door. She was busy toiling away, so I made my way into the tack room and found a dish of cat food. Quite tasty - dry and with a nice after-taste on the palate. I was evicted quite rudely and then told off for knocking over a bucket of water on my way out. The woman is obviously a lunatic.

Now, here is the really confusing bit. The male human promised to write me my own personal piece of music. Ahhh, I thought, something Gregorian, possibly a Madrigal or even a little light opera. Imagine my amazement when I scanned the piece and found it completely incomprehensible. Cribs? Peeps? Bros? What on earth is he talking about?? Then tonight he told me he's getting me some oversized trousers that I must wear around my hips and a pair of mirrored sunglasses. I don't even like the large dog blanket they tried to make me wear. He's obviously as mad as she is. I'm thinking of packing my trunks and moving in with my friend Cruiser. Quiet, sensible woman who kneels down so she can speak to you one on one and who doesn't gibber nonsense in my sensitive ears. Best of all, she lives on another continent.

Sunday, October 21, 2007

Breakfasted on some corn leaves. The horses stuck to the more familar flakes of hay. No sense of adventure.

The human woman and the female horse went off in the cornfields, leaving us two boys locked in our stalls. The human says it's because if she leaves us out, we run up and down the fence bellowing and upsetting the female horse. Of course we do. Why shouldn't we all go out together? Fortunately I have enough volume and staying power that I was able to make myself heard through the walls and across the fields, causing the female horse to want to rush back to see what was wrong. Quite satisfying. I'm told my vocalizations sound like bagpipes inflating. There is much droning and air intake and then the most unearthly and amazing sounds break forth. Due to my never having smoked, I'm able to maintain a high decibel level for quite some time. Female human said "Thanks a lot!" when they returned, so I know my efforts were appreciated.

More coping with gale force winds. I'm surprised my ears are still intact. I do like the spell of unseasonably warm weather we're having. I'm able to bake myself against the side of the barn and retain so much heat that the humans can barely touch me. I think it's safe to say it's never too hot for a donkey.

Saturday, October 20, 2007

I feel a bit melancholy. As a seasoned blogger of some three days standing, I had hoped to hear more from my many far flung friends and acquaintances. Oh well, I'll carry on, ears held high. I'm sure Samuel Pepys had days like this.

Yet another windy day. I find , given the generous length of my ears, that there is a distinct roaring noise the whole time I'm outside. I find it safer to back into a thicket so I can observe unseen and not be ambushed by anything sneaking up on me under cover of wind noise. The black and white canine is often guilty of this particularly low crime. When not in residence in the thicket, I spend time in the run-in, gazing at the horizon. Some lovely, dry corn leaves have blown in and they make an excellent crunchy snack. I've put some aside for future use.

I had quite a turn this evening. There I was in my thicket, deep in thought, and when I looked up, the field was empty - not a horse in sight. I raised an alarm call (I have a deep voice that carries well) and there were answering whinnies from the barn. Traitorous equines had gone in to dinner without so much as mentioning it to me. I hastened to my room, out of breath and feeling betrayed. And then...that ridiculous human female said "Sheaffer, stop that racket, you'll have the police here investigating crimes against donkeys."!! An excellent example of the sort of attitude I must endure. Racket indeed. Pahhh!

I'll stop for today. I feel a fit of pique coming on.

Friday, October 19, 2007

October 19th (again)

Imagine my surprise when I stepped outside this morning and the wind nearly tied my ears in knots! Very unpleasant. Not to mention that my tail is somewhat lacking in volume owing to a baby donkey chewing it off years ago (I know, I know, taste of my own medicine etc.) and the wind plays havoc with my nether regions.

Got in a good bout of Greco-Roman wrestling with my friend Doc (the Jock) He's quite a bright orange colour and is built like a fireplug. He's taught me all the important stallion fight moves - including the behind the knee bite and the rear and strike ploy. I've added a donkey specialty; the both barrels with hind feet to the chest. He retaliates by chomping clumps of hair off my hindquarters, which makes me appear rather moth-eaten by spring. The female horse, Molly, is useless at the martial arts and just tosses her mane and goes off to eat some more grass.

Spent a satisfying afternoon watching the farm across the road. They grow acres of potatoes, so I keep an inventory of truck loads being hauled in. I conceal myself behind a shrub so I can make my observations unobserved. I've tried a stray potato and frankly, they just don't compare to a section of rail fence or leather halter for taste and texture.

The humans were out at a community dinner with friends, gorging themselves on turkey and pie. We were let into our rooms at least two hours late. I plan to file a formal complaint.

Thursday, October 18, 2007

October 19th

All in all, an excellent day for donkeys. I have received two comments so far from close friends. Smokey is a strapping 16hh grey lad and Maggie is one of my human friends from the Nation's Capital. Smokey once stayed with us while a horse infant was being weaned and he and I had a wonderful time wrestling each other. There was an unfortunate incident involving donkey tooth marks on his jugular region. These things happen when your friend is twice your height and suddenly raises his head, suspending you in mid-air. The marks are now gone and we remain best of friends.

It didn't rain today, as it was supposed to, and that is always a plus for donkeys. My personal foot care specialist came this morning to tend to my hoofs. Oh, and he also does the horses while he's here. I must mention, that after my rather impressive ears, my feet are a point of pride with me. They are small, cylindrical and black and leave a hoofprint the size of a Toonie (aristocrats are know for their refined feet). They have been described as "black patent leather" and "hardened blue steel". My foot man often remarks on their superior quality.

As a bonus, the corn that grows up against our paddock was combined today. The horses are somewhat wary of the gigantic combine but I enjoy putting my head through the fence so the machine can pass within inches of my nose. There's a huge cloud of dust (I do love dust in all it's many forms} and a deafening roar and the operator and I nod to each other and then it's over for the year. Sigh.

When the female human put us in our rooms at 6pm we each got a carrot with our dinner. She gave me the daily grooming and pulled some burrs out of my tail and discovered a small section of bird's nest entangled in the burrs. I examined it thoroughly and determined that the builder was probably a thrush.

Now it's starting to rain, but I'm warm and snug in my plumphy bed of fresh shavings, staring at the back wall of my room, thinking deep thoughts.

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

The trials and tribulations of one small donkey

Although lacking opposable thumbs and standing only 8 hands tall, I feel it is important to share the daily trials I must endure as the smallest, but most intellectually most gifted equine of our group of three.

As you will see. I am a rather handsome, somewhat portly, distinguished donkey-about-town. I must confess, my ears are quite spectacular, especially compared to those of the other two. They have been compared to highly calibrated parabolic dishes, and I take that as a great compliment. Critics have compared my fur coat to steel wool but in fact it is like durable Harris tweed. I am a young twelve years and strive to maintain an air of dignified aloofness at all times. I do have a fondness for chewing wood and sometimes absentmindedly the tails of my horse friends. THEY don't mind but it causes the humans to shriek and flail their arms so I limit the activity to times when the humans are elsewhere.

As a keen observer of all that surrounds me and as one who forgets nothing that has happened within my world, I plan to share my musings, complaints and opinions. I would be pleased if you decide to join the select group of "Sheaffer-philes" who await my "bons mots" and the tales of my daily adventures.