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.