The woman has been flagging at her keyboard duties (she claims it is a busy season for humans) but today I have shamed her into action. I don't care for having my communication with my friends at the mercy of her social life. I have spoken to her sternly and she says it won't happen again, at least for another year. I will accept that for now - with reservations.
Today began as usual but around noon Molly was taken inside and cleaned up - as much as a wooly mammoth can be said to be cleaned in any way. Her mane was slicked down and her tail poofed out and the longest of her leg hair removed. Hmm, I thought, something is afoot. Sure enough, around three o'clock the tall woman showed up with her box on wheels and off went Molly. It seems she has gone to something called "winter boarding" not far from here. There is a large room called an arena and Molly will haul the woman around in there while they both try to get in shape for the upcoming trail season. Oh to be a fly on the wall. The grunting and groaning will be heard as far south as the border and I expect they will churn up clouds of dust in the process. Much like a buffalo stampede but without the majestic prarie backdrop. Doc is bereft.
Yesterday we received a surprise New Year's present from our aunt and uncle, Mr. and Mrs. Gale. A brown box on wheels rushed up the driveway and the human inside jumped out and inserted a box between the house doors. The blasted woman won't show us what it is. There is to be some installation by the male human and until then it's a "surprise". Hah! Semantics is what it is - witholding our personal present for her own devious reasons is more like it. She promises photos sometime soon and says we will be thrilled. Attilla the Hen isn't happy unless she's calling all the tunes around here.
We have news from the PrimRose Donkey Sanctuary, where all is busy as usual and TJ has learnt his place in the herd. Now he's actually being bullied by some of the others - and what better way to start my New Year's than to hear that! He is slowly letting Sheila touch him on his flanks but likes to control the amount of "hands on" time and simply leaves when he decides he's had enough. Sheila has the patience of Job and needs it, given the treatment many of the donkeys have endured before they reach her. Her oldest resident, Brennan, died shortly before Christmas and she is missing him sorely. He was well into his forties and she ensured his that last years were spent in comfort, surrounded by worshipping humans and donkey companions.
Sheila is not one to blow her own horn so I will do that for her. She was awarded the very prestigious Animal Action Award, given by the International Fund for Animal Welfare. Six hundred nominees were narrowed down to ten and then Sheila was chosen as the winner. I can't think of anyone more deserving. Of course, just letting TJ into her life should earn her a medal for extreme valour and bravery. Or a lifetime supply of nerve tonic.