Wednesday, May 28, 2008

A Prisoner in My Own Home

The full horror of my situation is beginning to dawn on me. Living next door to a hyperactive, juvenile delinquent mule is indiscribably awful. Not satisfied with having half my room, he now wants the other half. He spends his time with his head shoved between the boards, making what he takes to be hugely funny faces at me and spilling my water bucket. Tonight he managed to steal my dinner - of course he eats at warp speed while I prefer to chew each mouthful at least twenty five times. Now he's taken to rattling the chain that keeps the gate closed between us. I just doze off and he gives the thing a shake while saying "wake up ole guy. i'm board do summthin innerestin fer a change.". I barely get my ten hours of restorative sleep these days. The male human says he will add an extra board this weekend. I'd prefer he board the mule up in a wall the way they did in the middle ages.

On a happier note, we derived some amusement from sorting through the woman's things that she foolishly left on the ground. It was her own fault, of course. She had driven us from the lush paddock into the bare one to enforce a break from grazing (she calls it gorging). Then she put up the electric wire to make us stay put. We wandered around the corner of the barn and there was a veritable cornucopia of horse amusement. I tested the arms of her sunglasses and they came right off. Good thing I checked - who knows what might have happened otherwise. Doc grabbed the lunge whip and began whirling it around like a lion tamer. Molly sorted through her jacket for food, in the process turning the pockets into mushy slime. TJ got her hat and paraded around, holding it by the brim and waving it frantically. There were other interesting things, such as a telephonic device and a pair of gardening gloves, but we were rudely interrupted. "HEY YOU DEADBEATS!" she bellowed, and proceeded to charge at us, waving her arms. The objects became scattered far and wide and it took her a good half hour to retreive everything. Let it be a lesson to her. If she keeps us from our preferred food source, there will be unpleasant consequences.


Finn the Wonder Pony said...

Oh Sheaffer, you poor dear!! We simply must figure a way to divest you of that rapscallion! Hmmm... If you don't want to leave home, maybe you should send him down here to the NH Seacoast, where he could terrorize my pony, who is at the moment terrorizing me. He's only 3 you see, and I am 20. He's got much more energy than I and insists on playing games such as piggy-back and run-wildly-around-the-field-for-no-reason, both of which infringe on my grazing or nap time. In the meantime, you must insist that your dinner dish be moved so TJ can't steal your food. I applaud you on discovering and inspecting the woman's things. If you find the telephonic device again, just give me a call and my woman will come and rescue you from the tiny terrorist. ;^) I do have to warn you, though, my human has been trained to not leave stuff around that she doesn't want inspected. She does leave a lot of good things around for us to play with, though.

Anonymous said...

Donkeys of the World, Unite. You have nothing to lose but your chains!
Sucks to your life, Sheaffer. Fred and I have developed an ingenious scheme for relieving the boredom of servitude. We go visiting the neighbours. Yesterday, we pushed up a bar gate, pranced down the driveway and had a delightful romp through a newly sprouted corn field. While we were sampling the various and delicious vegetation, a pair of lovely ladies called Jacquie and Alana met us and plied us with carrots. We happily permitted ourselves to be led away, even though it was in the wrong direction (home).

This time it was the Big Guy who met us. He seemed inappropriately dressed for donkey wrestling but he did assist in whisking us back into our dreadful paddock.

The result: a wonderful 3 or 4 hours loose in the countryside and prompt delivery of snacks by lovely ladies. We recommend this as a remedy for both mules and deprivation, even though the fair Annie soundly thrashed us as soon as we returned.

Up the barricades!

billie said...

Sheaffer, I am sorry for the terrible plight you're suffering.

I wish you were here for the weekend. Everyone is gone but me and my house guest, who met Rafer Johnson for the first time and fell in LOVE. He gave many donkey hugs and she took many pictures and you could just see him thinking about how much he could milk this new friend over the coming weekend. And yet.. his affection is genuine. What an ambassador he is for the donkey world.

It would be lovely to have an older, distinguished ambassador here as well. If things get too much there with TJ, hop a plane or train and come on down. We will host you magnificently.