This has gone beyond nightmare territory. I can't bear to look at one more snowflake. I'm marooned in the run-in like a shipwreck survivor. TJ plows his way around and even seems to love standing out in the cursed stuff. The woman just shovels and shovels. First to get to the barn, then to get the wheelbarrow to the manure pile, then to get the truck out of the garage - and on it goes. I almost feel sorry for her - almost, but not quite. I've requested to stay in till March but she insists I get fresh air. She knows I prefer stale air and close quarters.
Yesterday, the humans put us in around two o'clock because the storm was so fierce. Then, they came out to our barn with lumber, power tools etc. They made TJ a proper stall at the end of the aisle. They left the door open so he wouldn't feel trapped and when he saw how much we enjoy construction work, he became much more interested. He even chewed the saw they left in the run-in. Doc is obsessed with power tools and managed to stand on the contractor's Makita saw when the barn was being built. The contractor blathered on and on about how sneaky we were because he had only left the door open for thirty seconds. The male human says Doc should do an ad campaign because the case broke but the saw didn't. I myself have a preference for those square yellow carpenters' pencils and sampled quite a few when the contractors left their tool boxes open. Humourless bunch, contractors.
I am so happy to have contact with the outside world through my diaries. It's my only link with sanity in these terrible days of ice and snow. Please lobby for a law that would see all donkeys flown south for the winter.
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I hate to tell you this - but it is not even officially winter yet.
Where I live, the real sized horses just love to run in the snow.
We got 37 centimetres on Sunday in Ottawa.
libraryperson, please keep all that snow right where it is! 37inches is taller than me. My humans moved here from Ottawa and have similar tales of "real" winters - I prefer to think of them as horror stories designed to scare small donkeys.
Well Sheaffer, my future donkeys Fred & George are going to have a nice rest in a big box stall of fluffy shavings for a week after the vet's visit tomorrow.
As dog says in the Far Side cartoon, "I'm going to the vet to be tutored!"
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