I've wrestled back control of what Jack insists on calling my "blob", and just in time, too. You won't believe what has happened. Actually, if you are a regular visitor here you won't be surprised in the least.
Saturday morning the woman came out to chambermaid our rooms and announced that she and the male human and Jamie (our minder when they are away) and Mosby's human, Emi, had been invited to Willy donkey's house for the day. Then she casually mentioned that I was also invited but that there was no room in the vehicle. Preposterous - I have a metal box on wheels parked right outside the paddock, and I prefer to travel solo in any case. She is simply mean-spirited and intent on keeping me away from any sort of situation that might provide a donkey with a pleasureable few hours.
Of course THEY had a wonderful time and were toured about and wined and dined and generally treated like honoured guests - of which I should have been one. Willy's place is called "The Moose's Roost" and is a superlative retirement facility for a small number of lucky horses. It is also home to Willy and his mother Roberta (Bert) and to Molly and Marble donkey. They toured the humans around their paddock and summer house and gave a rousing and sometimes physical display of how to extract treats from a many-sided ball thing called a Nose-It. Willy has it down to a fine art and forces the thing to expel treats in all directions. He is not terribly keen on sharing said treats. Occasionally his mother or one of the other donkey ladies fires off a hind hoof in his direction, Willy bellows and it begins all over.
Willy's human, Joan, and her friend Marlene were responsible for arising at the crack of dawn, motoring over to Mosby's and Emi's place on the day of my party/fundraiser and extracting considerable monies for the 50/50 draw. They were key to the success of the venture and I commend them for their stellar effort in helping the PrimRose donkeys.
I know THEY wanted me to be included in the visiting party. The blame must be laid in it's usual place - directly at the grotty feet of Herself, who wouldn't know a breach of etiquette if it bit her on the ankle.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Friday, June 11, 2010
a jack flash
sonny is still thinkin about his partee and gatherin material fer his memoroars and what not so i thot i would get ya up ta date. i kinda hi-Jacked his writin, so ta speek. also the g 7 or 8 or 9 or sumthin is takin place in the citee soon and hes expectin them to ast him to speak at it and adress all them world leeders. i dunno...its like the queen showin up to his partee - mebbee it could happin and mebbee not. all i kno is i ain't goin to no citee.
anyways i'm doin reel good, sheddin plenty and mopping up my eight squares a day. i put a good run on sonny mornin and evenin juss ta keep him movin. he puts in toooo much brain work and not enough runnin. vitinary is comin to flile teeth nex week but i don have ta get mine done on account they ain't growin no more and i got no abcisses. i'll stay to a good distance and put the stink eye on him.
molly horse is clear cutting the paddock and is reeel mad at the electrik wire that keeps us off a the long stuff. she keeps testin it and goin OW, dammit. she's gettin a wide body saddle cos her reglar one is too tight in her sholders since she been climbin mountins. she feels superieur on account she gits to go with the woman to the foress all teh time an shes always sayin no boys allowd juss girls and then she flounce off on the metal box, all struck up like.
doc went on another play date and had hissefl a wunderful time stompin on fake briges and fake watter and i dont know what all. woman has ta do that stuf otherwise hes reel jealos and pitches a fit when molly goes out to the foress. woman call is qualitee time but i think hes juss spoilt gettin driven all over creation juss to go play with other horses.
cats is good too but violet cat keeps on ketchin baby bunnnnies and leavin the boddies at the house door - she keep the head for herself. sally couldn ketch nothin if she sat on it by akkcitent. she once find a drownded mouse and give it ta sonny but he dont appreciate it so much bein on his hay.
penny dog is good too and puttin in lots a runnin and jumpin an then bathin in our water tank which aint so good. that dog shed somethin fierce unner water and i dont got no teeth to strain dog hair with.
thass it fer now i jusst wanted to ketch ya up to date. goin back to chasin sonny now.
anyways i'm doin reel good, sheddin plenty and mopping up my eight squares a day. i put a good run on sonny mornin and evenin juss ta keep him movin. he puts in toooo much brain work and not enough runnin. vitinary is comin to flile teeth nex week but i don have ta get mine done on account they ain't growin no more and i got no abcisses. i'll stay to a good distance and put the stink eye on him.
molly horse is clear cutting the paddock and is reeel mad at the electrik wire that keeps us off a the long stuff. she keeps testin it and goin OW, dammit. she's gettin a wide body saddle cos her reglar one is too tight in her sholders since she been climbin mountins. she feels superieur on account she gits to go with the woman to the foress all teh time an shes always sayin no boys allowd juss girls and then she flounce off on the metal box, all struck up like.
doc went on another play date and had hissefl a wunderful time stompin on fake briges and fake watter and i dont know what all. woman has ta do that stuf otherwise hes reel jealos and pitches a fit when molly goes out to the foress. woman call is qualitee time but i think hes juss spoilt gettin driven all over creation juss to go play with other horses.
cats is good too but violet cat keeps on ketchin baby bunnnnies and leavin the boddies at the house door - she keep the head for herself. sally couldn ketch nothin if she sat on it by akkcitent. she once find a drownded mouse and give it ta sonny but he dont appreciate it so much bein on his hay.
penny dog is good too and puttin in lots a runnin and jumpin an then bathin in our water tank which aint so good. that dog shed somethin fierce unner water and i dont got no teeth to strain dog hair with.
thass it fer now i jusst wanted to ketch ya up to date. goin back to chasin sonny now.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Party - Some Further Thoughts
It has seemed awfully quiet the last few days and we are all beginning to lose that glazed look. I have thought deeply on the events of the big day and have some observations to share.
I have studied those porta-potties and I don't trust them. They are the size of a small standing stall turned on end, which is to say quite compact. Humans go in and seem to simply disappear. Perhaps I glanced away at a crucial moment but maybe they are just dematerialized. I have no scientific evidence to the contrary so for now I will avoid them. The woman calls them the "Tardis" - she is as mad as a hatter.
Russell Mule doesn't trust them either. Last year he had a terrible time convincing the humans that he had to answer the call of nature -they obtusely guessed at everything else until he practically dragged them into a stall. This year he was much more comfortable being at the party because he had good memories from last year. He discretely concealed himself behind a large shurb and used it instead of a stall. He says he wouldn't give those porta-potties the time of day. That is how a young mule gets to be an old mule.
PrimRose's new hat is the height of millinery elegance. I admired her from afar but didn't dare approach the distinguished lady herself. Last year I tried and she made a snorking noise and twitched her tail, so I must admire in secret and hide my unrequited love. Who knew that a middle-aged donkey bachelor could suffer such a "crise de coeur".
Speaking of hats, a young lady named Sabrina attended my party sporting the most magnificent salad-like creation on her head. She graciously presented me with a bag of donkey treats, hugged me gently and gallantly removed some small carrots from her hat and offered them as a snack. Too bad Queen Elizabeth 2 could not make it - I feel sure she would have rewarded such good breeding with a title -" Keeper of The Royal Hat", perhaps.
Carrot cake is an abomination. It has very little to do with carrots and appears to be coated with white vermifuge. The two large birthday cakes skulked on a table under an awning contraption and even though this year they did not arrange flames on the top (thanks to a brisk wind) I refused to approach too closely.
Those monkey cupcakes are the demon offspring of the carrot cakes.
The bake sale table contained no Stud Muffins.
Mosby does not feel thirty-five years of age and thinks a sign saying "Green, Rank Stud Inside!" was long overdue for the front of his stall. Emi, his human, agrees. Maybe if I had one of those PrimRose would give me a second look...
I was more than pleased to lend a hoof to such a worthy cause but relieved to finally retire to the quiet of my room. I confess, I was so tired that while the woman was cooking our dinner, one minute I was leaning over the stall guard giving her instructions and the next minute my nose began to brush the floor and my knees to buckle. I have a year in which to ruminate over all I have experienced and observed - I may have to write a book.
I have studied those porta-potties and I don't trust them. They are the size of a small standing stall turned on end, which is to say quite compact. Humans go in and seem to simply disappear. Perhaps I glanced away at a crucial moment but maybe they are just dematerialized. I have no scientific evidence to the contrary so for now I will avoid them. The woman calls them the "Tardis" - she is as mad as a hatter.
Russell Mule doesn't trust them either. Last year he had a terrible time convincing the humans that he had to answer the call of nature -they obtusely guessed at everything else until he practically dragged them into a stall. This year he was much more comfortable being at the party because he had good memories from last year. He discretely concealed himself behind a large shurb and used it instead of a stall. He says he wouldn't give those porta-potties the time of day. That is how a young mule gets to be an old mule.
PrimRose's new hat is the height of millinery elegance. I admired her from afar but didn't dare approach the distinguished lady herself. Last year I tried and she made a snorking noise and twitched her tail, so I must admire in secret and hide my unrequited love. Who knew that a middle-aged donkey bachelor could suffer such a "crise de coeur".
Speaking of hats, a young lady named Sabrina attended my party sporting the most magnificent salad-like creation on her head. She graciously presented me with a bag of donkey treats, hugged me gently and gallantly removed some small carrots from her hat and offered them as a snack. Too bad Queen Elizabeth 2 could not make it - I feel sure she would have rewarded such good breeding with a title -" Keeper of The Royal Hat", perhaps.
Carrot cake is an abomination. It has very little to do with carrots and appears to be coated with white vermifuge. The two large birthday cakes skulked on a table under an awning contraption and even though this year they did not arrange flames on the top (thanks to a brisk wind) I refused to approach too closely.
Those monkey cupcakes are the demon offspring of the carrot cakes.
The bake sale table contained no Stud Muffins.
Mosby does not feel thirty-five years of age and thinks a sign saying "Green, Rank Stud Inside!" was long overdue for the front of his stall. Emi, his human, agrees. Maybe if I had one of those PrimRose would give me a second look...
I was more than pleased to lend a hoof to such a worthy cause but relieved to finally retire to the quiet of my room. I confess, I was so tired that while the woman was cooking our dinner, one minute I was leaning over the stall guard giving her instructions and the next minute my nose began to brush the floor and my knees to buckle. I have a year in which to ruminate over all I have experienced and observed - I may have to write a book.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
THE PARTY - Phase One
I hardly know where to begin. My head is spinning, my hoofs are aching and I have indentations from my crown but we emerged victorious at the end of the day. The sun shone, meat tubes were barbequed, baking was sold by the tonne and the silent auction drew them in like moths to a candle. Tickets were sold for various contests and my army of volunteers kept smiling throughout. I think the woman may have been grimacing from a touch of navicular in both her trotters, but I will graciously call it smiling. And Primrose has such a fetching new hat creation that she won the hat contest!
Short of flogging Herself, I can extract no further typing from her palsied hands today but I just want to say we made $4,000. 00 for Sheila, so the PrimRose donkeys will be assured of hay for the next year. That is more than double what the humans were aiming to raise. The first pictures are rolling in, thanks to Gazelle, who tirelessly shot photo after photo for hours on end. She has graciously given us a link so I may share them with you: www.picasaweb.google.com/gazelle600
I have known Emi (human to Mosby horse) all my life and I cannot tell you how much time and effort she put into this event. She is a small person with a huge spirit and an even greater love of donkeys. Thank you Emi, for holding the fundraiser at your beautiful property, for all the organizing you did, all the money you spent, and for giving and giving and giving on all levels, always with a cheerful smile. You are much loved by your many friends and family of all species and greatly admired by this small donkey.
Short of flogging Herself, I can extract no further typing from her palsied hands today but I just want to say we made $4,000. 00 for Sheila, so the PrimRose donkeys will be assured of hay for the next year. That is more than double what the humans were aiming to raise. The first pictures are rolling in, thanks to Gazelle, who tirelessly shot photo after photo for hours on end. She has graciously given us a link so I may share them with you: www.picasaweb.google.com/gazelle600
I have known Emi (human to Mosby horse) all my life and I cannot tell you how much time and effort she put into this event. She is a small person with a huge spirit and an even greater love of donkeys. Thank you Emi, for holding the fundraiser at your beautiful property, for all the organizing you did, all the money you spent, and for giving and giving and giving on all levels, always with a cheerful smile. You are much loved by your many friends and family of all species and greatly admired by this small donkey.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Two Reasons Why
The woman and I are asked quite often how Sheila, who runs the PrimRose Donkey Sanctuary, keeps going day after day. She has seen every possible negative aspect of human nature at work in the guise of the neglected and abused donkeys who make their way to her farm. Still she smiles, never raises her voice and one by one, tries to help the sanctuary residents and educate humans on how to properly care for donkeys in general.
I know some of you have heard me speak of Tabi (Tabolinski), the mammoth donkey who luckily found himself in Sheila's care. He had worked tirelessly pulling logs from the forest, without benefit of footcare for ages. When he was sold, his new owner decided to "fix" his feet all in one go, and the bony structure inside dropped down to his soles, leaving him in agony. Sheila and her vet and farrier and the volunteers nursed him back to health and he was looking shiny and standing comfortably, soaking up the sun and finally leading a wonderful life. One day last week Sheila went out to prepare donkey breakfasts and Tabi had died in the night. She is devastated. We have no details as yet but I know there are many of us, human and donkey, who know how much Sheila's heart is aching right now. I hope she remembers that even though his life was short - he was only in his mid-teens - she gave a great soul the chance to know what loving care is all about. He will be greatly missed.
On a happier note, Theodore, the "dumpster donkey" is thriving in his new home. After having been nearly beaten to death with a shovel by a lunatic who tied him to a dumpster and left him there to die, Sheila was called and he was taken to the sanctuary. To say he had trust issues is a massive understatement. Sheila felt his nightmarish experiences would make him a liftetime resident. One day a teenage human and her mother went to visit the sanctuary. Theodore marched up to the girl and declared she was "the one".
He went to live at her home and from being virturally untouchable, he is now calmly having his feet done by the foot man, being brushed, haltered and led everywhere. Last winter, he and his group of horses came into the barn during a bad storm. Theodore and the humans realized at the same time that one horse was missing. Back out went Theodore, up a steep hill, in the blinding snow, where he moved in close to the horse and led him back down the hill with the horse's muzzle pressed into his furry back. His day wasn't done yet. The teenage human's father found a chicken out in the roadway in the same blizzard and brought it home, fearing it wouldn't last the night. The chicken was put into the warm barn. In the morning the chicken was found fully recovered, nestled on Theodore's warm back. Theodore does not take his new home for granted. He knows how truly terrible humans can be but has the judgement to recognize the good ones when he meets them. That farm is in good hooves with Theodore in charge.
Those are just two of the many reasons we want to make the "Big Day" a very big success. Thank you to all who are working so hard to help my donkey friends and thank you to Sheila for doing, day in and day out, what most of us cannot even imagine. She's a woman on a mission and I gladly lend my name to anything that will help her to keep PrimRose up and running.
I know some of you have heard me speak of Tabi (Tabolinski), the mammoth donkey who luckily found himself in Sheila's care. He had worked tirelessly pulling logs from the forest, without benefit of footcare for ages. When he was sold, his new owner decided to "fix" his feet all in one go, and the bony structure inside dropped down to his soles, leaving him in agony. Sheila and her vet and farrier and the volunteers nursed him back to health and he was looking shiny and standing comfortably, soaking up the sun and finally leading a wonderful life. One day last week Sheila went out to prepare donkey breakfasts and Tabi had died in the night. She is devastated. We have no details as yet but I know there are many of us, human and donkey, who know how much Sheila's heart is aching right now. I hope she remembers that even though his life was short - he was only in his mid-teens - she gave a great soul the chance to know what loving care is all about. He will be greatly missed.
On a happier note, Theodore, the "dumpster donkey" is thriving in his new home. After having been nearly beaten to death with a shovel by a lunatic who tied him to a dumpster and left him there to die, Sheila was called and he was taken to the sanctuary. To say he had trust issues is a massive understatement. Sheila felt his nightmarish experiences would make him a liftetime resident. One day a teenage human and her mother went to visit the sanctuary. Theodore marched up to the girl and declared she was "the one".
He went to live at her home and from being virturally untouchable, he is now calmly having his feet done by the foot man, being brushed, haltered and led everywhere. Last winter, he and his group of horses came into the barn during a bad storm. Theodore and the humans realized at the same time that one horse was missing. Back out went Theodore, up a steep hill, in the blinding snow, where he moved in close to the horse and led him back down the hill with the horse's muzzle pressed into his furry back. His day wasn't done yet. The teenage human's father found a chicken out in the roadway in the same blizzard and brought it home, fearing it wouldn't last the night. The chicken was put into the warm barn. In the morning the chicken was found fully recovered, nestled on Theodore's warm back. Theodore does not take his new home for granted. He knows how truly terrible humans can be but has the judgement to recognize the good ones when he meets them. That farm is in good hooves with Theodore in charge.
Those are just two of the many reasons we want to make the "Big Day" a very big success. Thank you to all who are working so hard to help my donkey friends and thank you to Sheila for doing, day in and day out, what most of us cannot even imagine. She's a woman on a mission and I gladly lend my name to anything that will help her to keep PrimRose up and running.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
The Party Approacheth
I don't know how socialites do it. This party planning is exhausting. I have a team of humans labouring practically round the clock and still I'm worn to a frazzle. Just hearing about the preparations saps my strength.
They have rented some fascinating boxes called porta-potties for the guests, which seem to be a sort of equivalent to the box Violet uses as her washroom facilities. I must look into this further - but not too closely, if you take my meaning. The woman has told me not to stare at users as they come and go because it makes them uncomfortable. So many things for an inquiring donkey to remember. Especially as I like to stare for long periods of time.
Auction items are pouring in - art work of various schools, prints, jewellery, garden ornaments, books, food (for various species), gift cards, the two small, rare bears, purses, and many other wonderful things. The line-up of tables laden down with donated items should stretch nearly to the border at this rate.
There was a bit of a fracas between Ben and Jerry, which has resulted in part of Jerry's mane going missing. It remains to be seen how their humans will handle the situation. The boys aren't really too bothered - their party spirit is unquenchable. The woman has been combing away at my coat, to no avail so far. I refuse to shed a hair until the summer solstice arrives and that is that. Can't be too careful. If it can snow in May, anything can happen.
Herself may attempt some baking at the end of the week. This should prove interesting. She is famous for her misshapen cakes and geometrically challenged squares. I will report on her failings.
They have rented some fascinating boxes called porta-potties for the guests, which seem to be a sort of equivalent to the box Violet uses as her washroom facilities. I must look into this further - but not too closely, if you take my meaning. The woman has told me not to stare at users as they come and go because it makes them uncomfortable. So many things for an inquiring donkey to remember. Especially as I like to stare for long periods of time.
Auction items are pouring in - art work of various schools, prints, jewellery, garden ornaments, books, food (for various species), gift cards, the two small, rare bears, purses, and many other wonderful things. The line-up of tables laden down with donated items should stretch nearly to the border at this rate.
There was a bit of a fracas between Ben and Jerry, which has resulted in part of Jerry's mane going missing. It remains to be seen how their humans will handle the situation. The boys aren't really too bothered - their party spirit is unquenchable. The woman has been combing away at my coat, to no avail so far. I refuse to shed a hair until the summer solstice arrives and that is that. Can't be too careful. If it can snow in May, anything can happen.
Herself may attempt some baking at the end of the week. This should prove interesting. She is famous for her misshapen cakes and geometrically challenged squares. I will report on her failings.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
My Crown Has Arrived
You may remember that at my last year's party I was forced to wear a tiara, though the woman protested mightily that it was really a small crown. Prevarication, of course, but I knew the truth. This year I insisted on a proper crown - gold, with rubies and emeralds.
It has arrived and on Sunday she and her crafty friend Brenda appeared in the paddock to fit the thing properly. Now, I'm not a jeweller by trade but frankly this object looks suspicious to me. Herself assured me it was pure gold with rare gems but I have my doubts. For one thing, it shouldn't be quite so floppy and for another I think those gems are fakes. AND, would a real crown have something called velcro fastenings? I think not. She wouldn't let me examine it closely so it's hard to say.
It has been whisked off to Brenda's workshop to be made a smaller size and I just wonder, can real crowns be sewn and stapled into shape? I think not. As with last year, I have invited the Queen to drop in for tea if she's in the area on the day and if she does, I'm rubbing this faux crown off on a shrub as soon as her carriage hoves into view.
It has arrived and on Sunday she and her crafty friend Brenda appeared in the paddock to fit the thing properly. Now, I'm not a jeweller by trade but frankly this object looks suspicious to me. Herself assured me it was pure gold with rare gems but I have my doubts. For one thing, it shouldn't be quite so floppy and for another I think those gems are fakes. AND, would a real crown have something called velcro fastenings? I think not. She wouldn't let me examine it closely so it's hard to say.
It has been whisked off to Brenda's workshop to be made a smaller size and I just wonder, can real crowns be sewn and stapled into shape? I think not. As with last year, I have invited the Queen to drop in for tea if she's in the area on the day and if she does, I'm rubbing this faux crown off on a shrub as soon as her carriage hoves into view.
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