I'm Back and I'm FURIOUS

I have been thwarted and muffled lo these many months but finally, something so heinous has come to light that Herself has been forced out of hibernation to woman the keyboard.

That something is this. In the state of Texas, in a town called Van Horn, it is deemed to be a sport to chase after terrified donkeys on horseback, rope them around their necks and feet, throw them violently to the ground and then pull the ropes as tight as possible. This is done repeatedly until the donkeys are so physically and or mentally exhausted and damaged that they can run no more. Humans pay to witness this event and cheer wildly when the donkeys are thus tortured and tormented. They also bring their offspring so they can be taught this attitude toward other living beings. The town of Van Horn has mistaken 2012 for 1512 and will no doubt be enthusiastically supporting bear baiting any time now.

I am including a link to a petition that will allow you to express yourselves on this matter. It is not only in Van Horn that this travesty takes place, but we can at least begin the process of making our voices heard with this petition. 


http://www.change.org/petitions/van-horn-texas-chamber-of-commerce-donkey-roping-must-be-stopped?utm_campaign=friend_inviter_action_box&utm_medium=facebook&utm_source=share_petition

a reporte frum jack

i got a lot ta tell ya, i bin so busy i hardly had time fer mi three naps a day. they couldint run this outfit with out me actin as boss donkey an its a good thing i got forty four years of experiunce cos i need all of it mos days.

i'll give ya the bad news first. poor old osullivan donkey had a long fite with the infections in his feet and finally asked sheila ta let him go on account he jest couldnt fite no more. this was the same time helen the sheep was tellin sheila she was ready to go on accounta the years pilin up on her and the arthuritis and what not. so the vitinry helped them both ta lie down for the big sleep. they are together in the groun, botha them got their own qwilt to lie on an helen is lyin smack between osullivans legs so the both a them took the journey together. and then doncha kno cory donkey who had helth problems forever went on the same trip. we were all feelin it pretty hard i kin tell ya.

then sheilas ole cat oliver who had twenny one years on him just slid away one nite. sheila was settin up with him and she felt overcome with a sadness so insteada sleepin, which she couldint anyways, she come out ta the barn jus as the sun was comin up. and there was a serprize waitin fer her.

the serprize come frum a donkey name sally who just got here. sally dont say nothin about it but it seme she bin runnin with some bad boys and got in a family way, she just dont tell nobody when the child is suppose ta come. well, it slipped into this world just as ole oliver cat was slidin out. the baby is a strappin big lad and they called him oliver acourse. that boy hit the groun runnin and we all bin tryin to manage him and edjicate him ever since. simon donkey what got the cripple back end was missin his buddy osullivan real bad and he appoint himselve minder to the baby and spen every minite fussin over him like an ole biddy. i take a turn mindin him and let me tell ya, hes a caution. what with chasin cats and sheeps and goats and runnin like a speed demon he make our heads spin. and i gotta run everthin else on top of babysittin.

i bin doin more electrikals with my human frend brian and he say he dont know how he ever got anythin done without me right there glued to his side. hes a nice human but he sighs a whole lot. i dont kno why. an im still givin tours tho sometime comin bak down the hill i git goin pretty good and cant always stop so a few guests haveta step lively to avoid gettin mowed down. they don seem ta mind too much. im sticking ta the ole sayin that with age come privilege.

my frend laurel passed on some piktures took by shari and susan an im puttin them on here fer ya ta see. you mite wanta admire my blak shiny summer cote. i put a lotta work inta growin it and now my winter layer is comin in good so the blak dont show so much. i loss three more teeth so my five squares a day are all what ya call porrige or gruel but i tell ya, i dont feel a day over twenny an that smart alec vitinry gal kno she bin in a fite when she git done doin my dentals. an i got mi bubbel room fer tha winter and mi blankit so i sa bring it on. thats all fer now but i wil reporte back when i got time.

Now Is The Season Of Our Deep Suspicion

Yes. I mean autumn. When the leaves turn all sorts of brilliant shades and waft down from the trees, the grass loses it's ambition to grow and various insects become contemplative as the light and warmth disappears. And of course there are sunny days like these when the voice box in my barn suddenly announces that the first assault by frost will probably occur whilst I slumber this evening. The Woman avows she can see my winter coat growing but I know it still won't be enough to deal with the coming horror. She says I will wear a blanket this year. I say we'll see about that.

In preparation for the coming ssss, ssss, ssss, snow a new door arrived the other day and yesterday an unknown human arrived to install it. We inspected both human and door thoroughly, Molly grunting so loudly in his ear that he jumped a good eight inches off the ground whilst carrying the door. Molly felt that he was interrupting her lunch and carried right on eating as he hammered and sawed away. I supervised from a safe distance.

I have inspected numerous fuzzy tube insects, I believe called caterpillars, and their coats this year appear to be of a medium length. I hope this is an omen of a less abusive winter. The woman brushed against a wasp or hornet-type creature the other day and let out a dreadful shriek when it bit her leg. I don't blame it in the least - I feel the same way about the change of seasons.

Important Political Announcement

Please visit my friend billie's blog at http://camera-obscura-billie.blogspot.com/ to read the details. A change is afoot my friends and not a moment too soon.

Here I Am!

And I can assure you, it's been quite a struggle getting Herself firmly planted at the keyboard for more than five seconds. I've been following her about for a month, insisting that I have much to say, that my readers must miss me, that the universe is NOT unfolding as it should and what does she answer? She stares at me absentmindedly, looking very much like an even more distracted version of the White Rabbit, and says "yes, yes, I'm getting to it..." So this morning I stood gently but firmly on her left foot, until she agreed to apply herself.

It has been a long, hot and therefore good summer. Molly's ankle is doing very well although her slimming powder seems to have had no effect so far on her generous figure. Chester has moved in with a human called Shannon who has the same energy level as he does and who thinks he is utterly wonderful. Best of all, he now lives at the trainer's place and so sees him every day too. Molly is relieved that he is not here to pinch her bottom on a regular basis. We miss him but he definitely needed a broader canvas on which to paint his daily life. We are shopping for a replacement door for our run-in, to be installed before winter...

I have several incidents of near-abuse to report - I feel this should be in the public record. Whilst filling my drinking vessel one evening, the Woman became so distracted by a large insect that was removing approx. a quarter pound of flesh from her upper arm that she quite suddenly and violently sprayed me directly in the face with a stream of cold water! I have always despised those hose things and now have decided to never allow myself to be within a ten foot radius of one ever again.

Another evening, she forgot entirely to put my bed back together. This came about because she rummages in my room daily, removing any offensive substances, including wet spots. While engaged in this she babbles on and on about the dangers of ammonia and the importance of cleanliness. She then peers nearsightedly at the remaining damp spots on the mat and prodeeds to cover them with a beige powder which apparently exists with the sole purpose of battling the dreaded ammonia foe. I indulge her by listening with half an ear. On one particularly hot day this summer, she became so addled with the heat that she forgot entirely to put my bed back together! The result? I spent the night huddled at the side of my room, surrounded by piles of clean bedding and powdery bare spots on the mat, an uneasy, uncomfortable occupant of my own space. When she came to release us early the next morning, she immediately saw her mistake and apologized profusely but it was too late. I cannot and will not forgive this sort of incompetence.

There are many, many other lesser incidents -who leaves their riding head gear in the aisle in the dusk where a donkey naturally assumes it is a violent predator and knocks over an electric fan in an effort to escape? And who leaves a saddle cloth on the front of a donkey's stall where it can fall on his head when he is eating, making him think he is being taken captive by a band of kidnappers? Well. You take my point, I'm sure.

Thank goodness for my friends, whom I have dearly missed this past month. Jack even wrote to Herself demanding my voice be restored. And Billie (human to Redford and Rafer Donkey) published a link to an all-Haflinger display so Molly and Buddy could see quite literally tons and tons of golden horse flesh. I sincerely hope Herself has been shamed into womaning the keyboard once again.

It's True - Good Help is Hard To Find

I must apologize for my prolonged absence, which is in fact no fault of mine but of the sub-standard level of "help" available to me. These days, whenever I way lay the Woman and announce that I have something to say, she replies "not now, Sheaffer, I have to mow the grass, weed the garden, run off to some lawn fete, visit with friends, do some "real" writing, harrow the sandy ring etc. etc. ad infinitum. One of these days (maybe after grass season) I will squeeze through the fence and simply disappear. I wonder how long it will take her to notice I'm gone. No doubt until she needs someone to blame for every little misunderstanding ( how was I to know her unattractive riding helmet wasn't a food bowl when I accidentally dribbled some puddle water in it?).

Molly's ankle seems much improved and they went off to the forest the other day and no doubt made tremendous nuisances of themselves. Molly came back very smug and bragged about the legions of admirers she met, her wallow in the pond and the rare vegetation she inhaled. So far her slimming powder has made no difference whatsoever but she inhales that as well. It's all grist to her mill.

Chester continues to "renovate" the place on an ongoing basis. He remains remarkably cheerful about any damage he inflicts on himself in the process. Yesterday he grabbed the handle of a cleaning implement, misjudged the weight, and whacked himself smartly on the side of the head. It bothered him not one whit. He went on to immediately become entangled in a long strip of fly paper, wash both front feet in the water trough and purloin a cannister of fly spray, which very nearly exploded in his face when he squeezed it. His favourite word is "cool!". I find the younger generation quite alarming.

The days are growing noticeably shorter and as a result my new winter coat is growing noticeably longer. One can't be too careful. The worst is yet to come.

Criminal Activity

I want to assure my readers that I was in no way involved with any of the following shady goings-on. My record remains unblemished but the same cannot be said for the young Haflinger element around here. The swath of destruction continues to expand daily.

Although it makes him equal parts sticky and smelly, the heat has not affected Chester's energy level in the least. When the woman foolishly decided to change our routine so we were outside during the night time, Chester's energy level expanded even further. He spent the first night galloping around, snorting and splattering the barn with mud. The second night he spent digging under the trees - unearthing buried treasure he calls it - and the third night he outdid himself and tore the door off the run-in. I have included photographic evidence. After three nights we were switched back to our usual routine.

Molly's ankle is much better but still has a bit of a stammer when she trots, so she is not going to the trail riding get-together next week at my friend Smokey's establishment. She is furious. I know that somehow I will pay for this. Wait until she finds out she has to go on some sort of slimming drug meant for thyroid cases. Her test results are at the low end of normal and the vet has decided to help her along with a weight loss stimulator. This does not bode well.

I continue to pursue a balanced approach to the growing/shedding of winter hair. I always err on the side of caution - I do not, as some suggest, look like a balding buffalo lap robe. I include a photo of self so you can see exactly what I mean.