A Busy Week

We had a friend visiting for the week - she has known me for years and is a great admirer of all things donkey -especially me. She had to pretend to be here to help in the civilizing of TJ but we all knew I was the real reason. She is very tuned in to my wants and needs and spent much time fussing over my grooming requirements and offering me a steady stream of treats. In other words, she is far superior to the resident woman. I'm trying to arrange an exchange.

We had a few unusual occurances this week. The first was when they returned with the dog from the vet's; just the routine annual stabbing with needles and much personal prodding and poking, according to the dog. The dog had a build-up of itchy matter in her ears and they were cleaned out. The woman mentioned that I had the same condition, with equally itchy ears. Well. I was standing there being massaged by the two woman when suddenly there was a whooshing sound and an icy blast of liquid nearly deafened me. I shook my head frantically and just as things stopped spinning, squoosh, another blast in the other ear. Apparantly this was vet recommended! When my ears stopped glubbing, the resident woman took long sticks with white fuzz on the end and rummaged around in there. I hate to admit, it felt quite good. She has to take some of the black stuff on the stick to the vet to be looked at under a microscope. There is simply no privacy in the modern world. The dog tells me they got even more personal with her...I shudder to think where where they looked.

The two women spent far too much time with TJ. I hung over the stall guard and complained in various tones and turned my head nearly upside down (that generally gets a positive response) and tried to get my eyes to fill with tears but still the two of them fawned over the idiot mule. There was one amusing moment (to me, anyway), when the visitor, who was wearing crackly snow pants, kept trying to touch TJ and he kept retreating in horror. It was the pants of course, which followed him relentlessly (much like the Tell Tale Heart), making a swishing noise not unlike electricity. The visitor had to walk in a strangely bow-legged fashion in order to silence the pants, quite amusing from my side of the stall guard.

There is talk of dividing my quarters so TJ can live in one half - we'll just see about that hare-brained scheme. My attorneys are looking into the law as it applies to squatter mules.