Monday, November 29, 2010

Our Respite Is Over

Yes, it's true. Herself has bustled back into town, undoing all the zen-like goodness that the last week with Jamie has wrought. I can only assume she was unceremoniously escorted over the border after annihilating their food reserves for the next year.

I did hear that she was harassed regarding the importation of a plum pudding (with hard sauce) on her voyage over but of course she had her way and it was finally delivered to the American cousins along with a jar of chutney. I suppose the authorities thought the pudding was some sort of incendiary device disguised as a curling stone. They professed themselves highly perplexed that anyone would consider the object a fit ending to a celebratory meal.

And what, pray tell, did she bring us? Hah! NOT. ONE. THING. I should mention that amongst other activities she visited the Peabody Essex Museum in the venerable town of Salem and returned with various items from the gift shop. I had hoped for a small souvenir of the place - perhaps a replica of a cudgel for striking witches or a copy of the original documents from the famous witch trials of the 1600's - but no. Either would have stood me in good stead in my daily dealings with Herself.

We are most certainly back to what passes for normal around here. We were thrown out into the elements at the crack of dawn, with a few scraps of hay to share amongst ourselves. I made my way into the hay storage area to forage and was soundly told off for my resourcefulness. Ditto for trying to ease my hunger pangs by chewing on the fence. I know how poor old Ivan Denisovich felt out there in the wastes of Siberia.

Monday, November 22, 2010

From The Fog

It's probably best that I'm not able to speak to you live - we wouldn't be able to see each other. The fog and rain are as thick as a winter blanket. Of course the woman keeps lurching up behind me and scaring me half to death. Someone should install a fog horn on her... or she could just use her normal speaking voice.

She and the male human are going off to America for that nation's version of Thanksgiving, where she will no doubt proceed to annihilate their turkey and pie reserves. The good news is that we will have the admirable Jamie catering to our every need. He requires nothing of us except that we eat the delicious food he prepares. No exercise, no nagging and no critiquing of body shape. He also bats Sally's toy mouse around to perfection, allowing her to play the role of a large, predatory feline. The toy mouse contains a pleasant smelling herb that encourages her to ever greater feats of stalking and pouncing. When it's effect wears off, she retreats to her plush igloo to recover.

To the United States of America, I send you my heartfelt sympathies, but rest assured, it's only for five days. However, I also thank you for this respite from a tongue "sharper than a serpent's tooth" (at least on the subject of random wood chewing). Our rail fencing may be prove to be surprisingly remodelled when she returns.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Foot Sore Five Update

What a difference a few days make. The four assorted equines who were rescued by Sheila from their wretched, footsore existence are now looking like shipwrecked sailors who have washed up on a magical isle. They can't quite believe it and they fervently hope it isn't all an illusion.

Timothy, the mule with the elf slipper feet, has had a first trim done and is considerably more comfortable. The farrier is confident he will make a full recovery. He desperately wants to be sociable and though he has a few misgivings about the intentions of the human race, he has let the volunteers deburr his tail and legs, which were a solid mass of itching, scratching misery. His resemblance to the much larger Russell Mule is startling.

Stuart Donkey attaches himself firmly to anyone who will let him and is proving to be an affectionate and loving soul. He believes himself to be a donkey version of one of those lap dogs. His feet are looking, if not exactly normal after the first trim, then at least like underpinnings which have a bright future.

Paula Donkey gave Sheila a bit of a surprise shortly after her arrival. She demonstrated a stance whilst, uhhhm, micturating, that indicated clearly that SHE is a HE! A long and tangled winter coat, coupled with a low, shuffling gait brought on by aching feet kept the detail of gender a mystery. Now renamed Peter, his feet have not fared so well. One back foot is so contorted that an x-ray will be done to determine the level of damage. He is receiving pain relief until the vet can assess his condition further.

Juliette Pony likewise has one back hoof and leg that are permanently twisted as a result of years of neglect. Unlike Peter, she seems to have developed moves to compensate for the handicap and although her leg will never be right, she is not in pain.

And poor Lillian Llama - what of her? Well, progress is being made. She is taking her meals in the trailer and recently began to sleep in there as well. A kind vet tech delivers her warm meals twice a day. It has been decided that she will be happiest with her colleagues at the sanctuary and her move will take place very, very soon.

Shadow the goat, now renamed VanaRose, made clear to Laurel the volunteer that her ears were feeling the chill and so Laurel has made her several sets of ear covers, in varying thicknesses so she can weather the winter chill in comfort. They match her tartan winter blanket, giving her a stylish air not usually seen outside the larger fashion houses.

Billie, human to Rafer and Redford, has declared November 18th to be International Donkey Day. What a wise and considerate woman and what an excellent idea! I have yet, however, to receive gifts or even lavish praise from Herself. The status quo is obviously alive and well around here.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Quadriplegic Donkey Walks Again

Buddy in Nevada has sent this along so everyone can enjoy the happy ending. It's a long read but well worth it. Thank you Buddy.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Ssssss, ssssn, sssssno....It's Coming

I can't bring myself to say the whole word; it's simply too traumatic. I prefer to picture my nephews, Rafer and Redford Donkey, frolicking through a southern autumn. How civilized, how warm, how snow-free.

It has been quite bearable here lately but even as I write, the weather gurus are predicting a light dusting of sn...., well, you know. We had a surprise ambush of the wet stuff a week ago and Jack was so incensed that he had a massive attack of the screaming squitters and refused to leave the run-in all day. Very messy both inside and out. Whenever he saw the woman, he expressed himself loudly. He would prefer to live in the house but given his bathroom habits I believe it to be unlikely.

He liked last week better because the sun, weak and unmotivated as it is in November, made an appearance nearly everyday. He was able to bake himself in front of the barn, where he dozed and mumbled in his sleep and sucked on his loose front tooth. Doc has been very busy decorating his person with the bounty of fall, mainly mud, burrs and sticks. Molly has grown a sasquatch-like coat and is eating anything remotely chewable. I am brooding on the coming insanity of winter.

We are still awaiting news of Lillian Llama.

Saturday, November 6, 2010

More About Feet

I have been very busy this last week gleaning information where I can - mostly by sidling up behind the woman and monitoring her conversations with Sheila of the PrimRose Sanctuary. The discussions revolved around a group mysteriously referred to as "The Foot Sore Five". I thought it might be some sort of secret hiking and tour group, hence my intense interest but in fact it is a group of five assorted individuals who have existed in a horrible sort of Limbo for over a decade.

The setting is a gated property with two mansions on it. It has a weed and burdock infested paddock which cannot be seen from the road and in which two donkeys, a small mule, a pony and a llama have been incarcerated for eleven years. The incarceration came about when the "owner" of the animals, declaring himself to be destitute, asked his friend the mansion owner if he could park the group of five in the paddock. The paddock is large enough that the five were able to forage for food but there has been no health or foot care for the duration. The mansion owner seemed to feel that as these were not his animals, he should not expend any sort of energy or money on their well-being.

His sister, upon her return a short while ago, tried to take some action on the foot front and was banished from the family home by her brother, who was infuriated at her interference. The sister, many donkey blessings be upon her head, called Sheila. The brother was even more furious - it seems that even though he doesn't care for animals in general and these in particular, he felt no one should intervene on their behalf. The dust has settled, the four equines are at the sanctuary but the llama, who in her previous life was quite sociable, cannot be caught yet.

I have instructed the woman to post some photos of the shocking state of the collective feet. Paula the female donkey has one back hoof that will never completely recover, as does Timothy the small mule. Stuart, the male donkey, has a better foot outlook as does Juliette the pony. Sheila tells us that their comfort level with humans has soared since arriving at the sanctuary and she has hopes that all will eventually be well enought to find loving homes.

Sheila has llama expert friends, including a vet, socializing the llama, who is called Lillian. She is being fed a warm meal twice a day and is coming around to the idea of entering a trailer. I just hope the angry man who owns the property lets the process move forward. Lillian is missing her charges and needs a home that will care for her properly. I might add that all five, but especially Lillian, are liberally coated in burrs from nose to tail.

Jack and I have had intense discussions as to why so many angry and volatile humans become entangled with the unfortunate members of other species. I know it has something to do with control and power but still...I would have thought this one angry man would have welcomed the chance to empty his paddock. I will give llama news when I have some.