She has officially gone off the rails, round the twist, lost her marbles and just generally ventured into the land of the loony. As "P" day draws nearer, she has been inspecting my person and finding it wanting. "Sheaffer", she said this week, "you look like an old hearth rug with burn marks." "OH? Have you looked in the mirror lately?" was what I wanted to say but it's best to keep silent when she is in one of her states.
Our donkey-loving friend Mary Jane the human was visiting and assured her I looked fine but she would have none of it. Out came the gigantic clippers and she set to work. It took them forever because donkey hair is highly resistant to assault but eventually they had removed approximately two wheelbarrow loads of my winter coat. Jack initially had a complete meltdown because he thought it was somehow related to "vitinaries" but he finally realized the attack was levelled strictly at me. My new, improved appearance (please insert dripping sarcasm here) is so freakishly horrendous that I refuse to go out in public. She keeps trying to correct her mistakes and it keeps getting worse. I may have to wear a mumu or tent or at least a blanket to my own party.
My ears are throbbing so I will move on to a happier subject. My friend BumbleVee who reads my blog heard of the party/fundraiser and has sent us one of her handmade bears for the silent auction. He is an imposing and spectacular bear and stands a full two and one half inches tall. His name is Tuffy and he travelled here all the way from Calgary in a padded envelope, emerging with nary a sign of travel sickness and ready to do his bit. The woman has placed him in his own "Fauxbearge" egg and there he sits like a small, benevolent despot. His siblings have won many awards and his extended family can be seen at www.picturetrail.com/bumblebearies I have included a photo of him although it doesn't do him justice. At least the woman didn't cut his head off. I hope she doesn't get any ideas about using the clippers on him...
Another friend, Brenda, one of my honourary human aunts and owner of Ruby Cat Creations, has designed and sewn five extraordinary fly masks that will also go in the auction. They look like they are straight off the runways of Paris (I've only seen pictures of Paris, I'm afraid). Molly wants all five and the woman is having trouble suppressing her increasing whining and pleading. Here are photos of the five, again, they are by the woman so please be warned.
Many, many other wonderful things have appeared for the auction and the bake sale is gathering momentum. I may have to check out that table in between pressing the flesh and signing autographs. They are having prints of my portrait made, which I will sign with my hoofprint. The woman is warning people to hang it in a quiet corner as the eyes follow you everywhere, making the viewer feel guilty and inadequate. Pshaw, what nonsense.
I must now trudge off to hide my humiliation behind a tree.
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12 comments:
Well, WE have your portrait in our tack and feed room, and I find it an endless comfort to have you up there watching over me with your intelligent eyes, Sheaffer.
It is just like the woman to get a bit wild right before your party, with the clippers, no less!
At least you are cooler without all the luxurious donkey fur. Rafer Johnson is getting a wonderful scruffy look that I personally think would be all the rage in Donkey Vogue.
Redford has one nice slick area just on his chest, which the vet thought we had shaved. I was too embarrassed to admit it's because he sticks his head through the fence to get that "greener grass" and has thus rubbed himself a nice donkey tattoo of mismatched fur.
Your party will be the event of the season, haircut or not. Walk boldly forward and everyone will assume either you had the cut done on purpose for the occasion OR that the woman did it and you are ever the all-suffering, gracious soul we know and love. Either way, you will get tons of treats!
Sheaffer,
will there be signed copies of your portrait available for purchase? I have one of them, but would much rather have one with the distinguished hoofprint on it....copies will NOT do here, YOU must stomp on an ink pad and then stomp on the bottom of the portrait..makes it so much more personal that way.
Dicey is hounding me to get her one..she is attracted to you a lot, and asks what you are up to and WHEN are you coming to Olde Towne Farm for a visit? Visit, HELL..she would not let you leave under ANY circumstances, unless SHE was going with you, that is. You have a real fan there fella..LOL....
Mr Gale
Thank you, Billie, as always you are balm to a wounded spirit. She was at me again with the infernal clippers tonight, trying to slim down my midsection where it meets the plimsoll line. A small comfort is that she has so much bristly donkey hair embedded in her clothes that she looks like a dog with fleas. It sounds as though Redford is experimenting with the currently popular tousled look know as "bed head". This too shall pass. If only you and my other blog friends could attend my party I might stand a chance of being slipped a morsel or two...
Mr. Gale, the wonderous, magical Dicey - how well she understands me! I would be pleased to have a signed print hanging by the spot where she lays her head. I would be quite content to spend my days in her company - like Jack, I am rather partial to tall, forceful women.
Oh, nooooo.... what could she have been thinking this close to the big day?
I know from personal experience that with humans the only difference between a good haircut and a bad one is about three weeks... I sure hope you can "grow a new coat" in a week... and it would help if you could convince her to stop trying to fix it or tweaking any more mistakes...
Perhaps the idea of wearing some type of clothing will have merit if things are as bad as you feel they are. A muu muu or toga come to mind....
ahahhah... little Tuffy looks so cute in his Fauxbearge Egg... that's pretty funny.... I sure hope he knows his job and does well at it.... oh, and make sure you hide combs, scissors and clippers so she doesn't feel the need to tidy up his hairdo...
BumbleVee, I'm very focussed on growing a quick coat but not much is happening so far. I look like an escaped prisoner with a buzz cut showing scars and all - thank heavens I have no tatoos. I'm frantically searching for an opera cape or failing that a toga, as you suggest. Tuffy is filled with confidence and ready to meet the masses. He is Napoleonesque in stature and has the large personality to match. He has stared down the clippers so far. Fortunately the woman thinks his hair is "charmingly tousled" and not "moth-eaten", as she called mine.
Sheaffer, Mr. Gale and I have had words about the gigantic clippers -- whereas I am worried that the woman has lost control and truly given you a haircut that will go down in history, Mr. Gale thinks you are exaggerating and that you look just fine! So, I suppose that the idea of your actually wearing clothing may have some merit (though I hope and pray it is not necessary).
As for those fly masks, the minute I saw them, I knew that Molly would want one for each day of the week! Brenda is quite clever and talented.
"Tuffy" in his "Fauxbearge Egg"...what a hoot! If I were able to be there in person, I assure you that the bake sale would quickly be sold out!
Sheaffer, never you mind about your attire. No matter how bad your haircut may be (shudder), all who love and adore you will see that beauty truly is in the eyes of the beholder and would never let a "bad hair day" keep them from celebrating your birthday the best way possible, by helping Primrose Sanctuary!
Oh Gale, it's a catastrophic hair day indeed. I've tried to make what's left of it stand on end - with help from the frost and freezing temps we've had at night - but I don't have much to work with. She says I look like a small grey whale with fourteen years of harpoon and sundry other scars. Maybe human Brenda can quickly assemble a tent-like affair to hide my shame. One faintly positive note is that she left my eyebrows intact. Tuffy remains fully furred - for now. Your empathy touches my weary heart - without my friends I would simply give up and become the puppet she wishes me to be.
Donkeys unite!Sheaffer - we have been fearing herself would attack you with scissors and clippers any day now. The woman seems to have a worrisome hairdressing fetish that bursts full bloom in spring - somewhat like a seasonal allergen.
We hope that Ben and Jerry have managed to avoid a similar fate. It is our experience that fuzzy hair - preferably festooned with whatever barnyard trash you can find - is essential to attracting the babes.
Only this week, we managed to finagle three bags of carrots out of the innocent who cared for us while the fat lady was in Toronto. She not only fed us all the carrots and apples on the farm but took the "snack" spending money left by the fat lady to buy some more.
Word is, she is trying to either adopt Annie and us or convince the fat lady to adopt her
Sigh...
Sheaffer, I just read about you on BumbleBee's blog. You seem like a real cool little donkey.
I'm sorry you got a bad hairdo. But I'm sure it will grow back real soon. Do you like cats? I have some friends who are goats, but I do not know any donkeys.
Sheaffer
I am devastated to hear of your brutal disfigurement. This is obviously a direct manifestation of the Mental Infirmity which seems to have taken hold of your human. Freud himself makes several observations about this uncontrolled state of CLIPSOPHRENIA. The pushing up of her own hair being the first sign. And now in the florid grips of the illness she seeks to remove the hair of all others. Witness her repeated attempts to "repair" the damage. On a positive note there is no indication in the Journals that she will clip anything but hair. Think of it as a chance to make a statement. Perhaps you could announce that you have shorn your locks to draw public attention to the plight of abused Donkeys. I hear that the human Celebrities do this all the time. I expect that they exhaust themselves helping the underprivileged, resulting in their frequent requirement to undergo Rehab. The fervent preparations continue here in preparation for your Big Day. Needless to say we are keeping a keen eye on things to ensure there is no slacking off. Jerry and I keenly await the opportunity to welcome you and your friends to our humble abode. We will even be happy to see the woman as long as she has been disarmed of her clippers.
Ben
Daisy, welcome and yes, I love cats more than almost anything else - almost as much as Stud Muffins. I have my own cat, Sally, who lives in the barn and is treated like a princess. I allow her to play in my dinner hay and bat my whiskers and she lets me massage her midsection and ruffle her fur. She sometimes leaves mouse parts in my stall as a sign of the esteem in which she holds me and I try hard to pretend they're just what I wanted. Then the woman removes them before I try to exit through the window to avoid walking past them.
Ben, she is quite simply a mad woman and the modern incarnation of Delilah with motorized scissors. Now she's speaking of gluing paper flowers over various battlescars to camouflage my well-earned marks of life experience. I refuse to attend my own party looking like a failed origami project. I can't wait to visit you at your estate and to meet your human staff. I met some of them here and one of them is an excellent ear cleaner. I might just stay on at your place for an extended visit...
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