Much as he irritates and torments me, I feel a certain responsibility to show TJ the do's and don'ts of living here. He came up here from Texas last summer and has no clue about the hidden dangers of winter.
This morning I was telling him that jumping up and down on the frozen surface of the water trough would eventually end in an icy drenching and he said "Lalalala, I can't hear you, I'm making too much noise. Hahahahah!" He continued his infantile kaboinging and eventually, seeing that I had made a point of turning away, he ran off to commit more vandalism.
One hard lesson I learned as a youngster was to never, ever, put your tongue on a metal surface on a cold winter's day. I was trying to explain this to TJ, who kept saying "Yeahyeahyeah, blahblahblah, you're not the boss of me ole furface." Whereupon, he rushed up to the metal gate and jammed his tongue against it. I must confess, I had mixed emotions. I couldn't resisit saying "I TOLD YOU SO" but seeing him struggling and whimpering, I felt a slight twinge of remorse. Doc came over and gave him a hard shove on the backside but that only caused him to howl louder. The woman appeared and made reassuring noises but when she tried to help him, he came unglued (except for his tongue) and threw himself backwards. We still have bits of tongue welded to the middle bar of the gate. Revolting.
He blames me entirely - of course. "Thish ish all yor fault" he said, "jusht you wait an shee, I will caush you lotsha pain." Wonderful. Now in addition to his hyperactivity he has a speech impediment. I can't wait for winter to end.
Friday, February 29, 2008
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Freezer Geezer
That's what the woman has taken to calling me. She stole it from some televised presentation. I must admit, it's very much the way I feel these days. She drags me down the lane to retreive the mail and that's the extent of my movement until she lets us back in our rooms.
I believe spring must be stirring somewhere because the night time noise levels from the wildlife have reached deafening proportions. The coyotes convene nightly right behind our driveshed. I wouldn't mind a five minute outburst but they go on and on, working themselves into a state of delerium. Sometimes the woman races out of the house in her night attire and shrieks at them while hurling chunks of ice in their general direction. It works very well and they slink off to party elsewhere. I'm not sure who's more shrill and grating on the nerves, but I rather think it's the woman.
Now the enormous owl has returned to add his two cents worth to the din. He only says one thing "Whooooooo, whoooooo, whooooo?" You'd think by now he'd have figured out the name of who or whatever it is he's seeking. On moonlit nights he casts a shadow like that of a flying dinosaur. All this acreage and he has to sit in the one big tree in front of the barn and talk to himself for at least an hour. The woman thinks he has something to do with the disappearance of my shy friend. Of course TJ is just itching to get outside and "kick some butt" as he so boorishly puts it. Hmmm. I wonder if an owl can carry a mini mule far, far away from here? We can only wait and hope. I must ecourage TJ to take a midnight constitutional.
I am awaiting news of my standing in the race for the leadership of the donkey party. I am quite willing to don a turban if that will motivate the voters. No matter what, I can't see myself in a pant suit like that of the Clinton woman. Too frightening.
I believe spring must be stirring somewhere because the night time noise levels from the wildlife have reached deafening proportions. The coyotes convene nightly right behind our driveshed. I wouldn't mind a five minute outburst but they go on and on, working themselves into a state of delerium. Sometimes the woman races out of the house in her night attire and shrieks at them while hurling chunks of ice in their general direction. It works very well and they slink off to party elsewhere. I'm not sure who's more shrill and grating on the nerves, but I rather think it's the woman.
Now the enormous owl has returned to add his two cents worth to the din. He only says one thing "Whooooooo, whoooooo, whooooo?" You'd think by now he'd have figured out the name of who or whatever it is he's seeking. On moonlit nights he casts a shadow like that of a flying dinosaur. All this acreage and he has to sit in the one big tree in front of the barn and talk to himself for at least an hour. The woman thinks he has something to do with the disappearance of my shy friend. Of course TJ is just itching to get outside and "kick some butt" as he so boorishly puts it. Hmmm. I wonder if an owl can carry a mini mule far, far away from here? We can only wait and hope. I must ecourage TJ to take a midnight constitutional.
I am awaiting news of my standing in the race for the leadership of the donkey party. I am quite willing to don a turban if that will motivate the voters. No matter what, I can't see myself in a pant suit like that of the Clinton woman. Too frightening.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Meeting the Basic Needs of Your Donkey in His Early Years
I have added three pictures to illustrate this post. I can't over-emphasize the importance of intellectual pursuit and travel in the formative years of the young donkey.
You will notice that the young male human in the first illustration has a clear understanding of a donkey's thirst for knowledge. He has invited the donkey into the house and onto the sofa so they may explore the world of reading together. Donkeys love being read to and retain everything they hear. No doubt the female human whose offspring is shown here shortly thereafter rushed into the room shrieking about "barn animals" being allowed in the human abode. I speak from experience; my own woman has behaved exactly this way when I ask politely to explore her residence.
The second illustration is of the preferred means of transport for long distance travel. This very young donkey shows the correct way to exit a motorized vehicle. Notice his poise and obvious inate good breeding. He is disembarking in an almost regal manner and allowing the human to feel useful while holding the door for him. This encourages the human to stive for an even greater level of service in the donkey's employ.
The third illustration is of an infant donkey being transported in an overnight bag. His human has recognized the inherent donkey need to travel. We donkeys posess Romney blood and have an incurable sense of wanderlust. This mode of transport allows the young donkey to view the wider world without tiring himself unduly. The pouches on the front of the bag are for donkey snacks and a thermos of tea that the two can share. I cannot over-stress the importance of travel in the early years. Without it a donkey grows jaded and weary and spends his days looking over the fence and wondering what he might be missing.
Of course these are just the most basic elements in the education of young donkeys. We crave artistic expression, especially music. A mere two or three thousand dollars will equip the barn with a modest system. Fine dining is also critical to our well-being. Paper, leather, compost - we like to experience a broad range of taste sensations . We savour works of art on both paper and canvas, to mention only two of the media that appeal to our aesthetic nature. Canvas is chewier, paper more ethereal.
In short, if you wish your donkey to be content and well-rounded in every sense of the word, you must nourish his desire to expand his mind and body.
You will notice that the young male human in the first illustration has a clear understanding of a donkey's thirst for knowledge. He has invited the donkey into the house and onto the sofa so they may explore the world of reading together. Donkeys love being read to and retain everything they hear. No doubt the female human whose offspring is shown here shortly thereafter rushed into the room shrieking about "barn animals" being allowed in the human abode. I speak from experience; my own woman has behaved exactly this way when I ask politely to explore her residence.
The second illustration is of the preferred means of transport for long distance travel. This very young donkey shows the correct way to exit a motorized vehicle. Notice his poise and obvious inate good breeding. He is disembarking in an almost regal manner and allowing the human to feel useful while holding the door for him. This encourages the human to stive for an even greater level of service in the donkey's employ.
The third illustration is of an infant donkey being transported in an overnight bag. His human has recognized the inherent donkey need to travel. We donkeys posess Romney blood and have an incurable sense of wanderlust. This mode of transport allows the young donkey to view the wider world without tiring himself unduly. The pouches on the front of the bag are for donkey snacks and a thermos of tea that the two can share. I cannot over-stress the importance of travel in the early years. Without it a donkey grows jaded and weary and spends his days looking over the fence and wondering what he might be missing.
Of course these are just the most basic elements in the education of young donkeys. We crave artistic expression, especially music. A mere two or three thousand dollars will equip the barn with a modest system. Fine dining is also critical to our well-being. Paper, leather, compost - we like to experience a broad range of taste sensations . We savour works of art on both paper and canvas, to mention only two of the media that appeal to our aesthetic nature. Canvas is chewier, paper more ethereal.
In short, if you wish your donkey to be content and well-rounded in every sense of the word, you must nourish his desire to expand his mind and body.
Friday, February 22, 2008
A Busy Week
We had a friend visiting for the week - she has known me for years and is a great admirer of all things donkey -especially me. She had to pretend to be here to help in the civilizing of TJ but we all knew I was the real reason. She is very tuned in to my wants and needs and spent much time fussing over my grooming requirements and offering me a steady stream of treats. In other words, she is far superior to the resident woman. I'm trying to arrange an exchange.
We had a few unusual occurances this week. The first was when they returned with the dog from the vet's; just the routine annual stabbing with needles and much personal prodding and poking, according to the dog. The dog had a build-up of itchy matter in her ears and they were cleaned out. The woman mentioned that I had the same condition, with equally itchy ears. Well. I was standing there being massaged by the two woman when suddenly there was a whooshing sound and an icy blast of liquid nearly deafened me. I shook my head frantically and just as things stopped spinning, squoosh, another blast in the other ear. Apparantly this was vet recommended! When my ears stopped glubbing, the resident woman took long sticks with white fuzz on the end and rummaged around in there. I hate to admit, it felt quite good. She has to take some of the black stuff on the stick to the vet to be looked at under a microscope. There is simply no privacy in the modern world. The dog tells me they got even more personal with her...I shudder to think where where they looked.
The two women spent far too much time with TJ. I hung over the stall guard and complained in various tones and turned my head nearly upside down (that generally gets a positive response) and tried to get my eyes to fill with tears but still the two of them fawned over the idiot mule. There was one amusing moment (to me, anyway), when the visitor, who was wearing crackly snow pants, kept trying to touch TJ and he kept retreating in horror. It was the pants of course, which followed him relentlessly (much like the Tell Tale Heart), making a swishing noise not unlike electricity. The visitor had to walk in a strangely bow-legged fashion in order to silence the pants, quite amusing from my side of the stall guard.
There is talk of dividing my quarters so TJ can live in one half - we'll just see about that hare-brained scheme. My attorneys are looking into the law as it applies to squatter mules.
We had a few unusual occurances this week. The first was when they returned with the dog from the vet's; just the routine annual stabbing with needles and much personal prodding and poking, according to the dog. The dog had a build-up of itchy matter in her ears and they were cleaned out. The woman mentioned that I had the same condition, with equally itchy ears. Well. I was standing there being massaged by the two woman when suddenly there was a whooshing sound and an icy blast of liquid nearly deafened me. I shook my head frantically and just as things stopped spinning, squoosh, another blast in the other ear. Apparantly this was vet recommended! When my ears stopped glubbing, the resident woman took long sticks with white fuzz on the end and rummaged around in there. I hate to admit, it felt quite good. She has to take some of the black stuff on the stick to the vet to be looked at under a microscope. There is simply no privacy in the modern world. The dog tells me they got even more personal with her...I shudder to think where where they looked.
The two women spent far too much time with TJ. I hung over the stall guard and complained in various tones and turned my head nearly upside down (that generally gets a positive response) and tried to get my eyes to fill with tears but still the two of them fawned over the idiot mule. There was one amusing moment (to me, anyway), when the visitor, who was wearing crackly snow pants, kept trying to touch TJ and he kept retreating in horror. It was the pants of course, which followed him relentlessly (much like the Tell Tale Heart), making a swishing noise not unlike electricity. The visitor had to walk in a strangely bow-legged fashion in order to silence the pants, quite amusing from my side of the stall guard.
There is talk of dividing my quarters so TJ can live in one half - we'll just see about that hare-brained scheme. My attorneys are looking into the law as it applies to squatter mules.
Monday, February 18, 2008
Karma at Work
The old adage that you reap what you sow (which is just Karma in another guise) was played out at our barn today and I am 50% pleased with the outcome.
Another weather system has swept over us, melting most of the snow and giving us an envigourating combination of rain/freezing rain. The property looks like one of those blasted, muddy battlegrounds of WW1.
As is usual these days, the woman let me stay inside while she did our housekeeping. She shovelled, I watched - the usual arrangement. On her way out with the wheelbarrow she gave me a meagre hay snack in the aisle and proceeded to tidy up our hay storage area. Unbeknownst to me, she had gathered up a huge ball of baler twine to put out in the garbage. Thoughtlessly, she tossed it over the half door leading into the barn and the whole thing landed squarely on my head. One minute all was Zen-like tranquility and the next, sheer terror. I only figured this out afterward - at the time all I knew was that some spider/octopus creature straight from Greek mythology was trying to smother me. I began snorting and plunging around blindly until the thing began to unravel and I could finally see what it was. The woman was all false apologies and comfort, patting me and making soothing noises, but she was smiling all the while...
She led me outside with the others and went on her way with the wheelbarrow. Nearly at the gate, she hit a patch of solid ice submerged under about six inches of melt water. Her feet flew up in the air and down she went like a ton of crushed stone. "Eeeeee, (sploosh) auuughaaaohcrap" she said. The waters parted in tsunami-like waves. There she lay, like a stunned Orca, staring up at the sky.
I made my way over and received a terrible shock. She is hardly a thing of beauty when upright, but seen upside down and on her back, the effect was unbearable. As I was averting my gaze, I registered the slight odour of peppermint emanating from her coat pocket area. I quickly changed focus and hastened to see if the contents had received damage. "Thank you SO much, Sheaffer" she said in an icy tone, much like the pungent brown water that cascaded off her person. She squelched off to the house, leaving me free to whittle the wheelbarrow handles.
I can only assume that Instant Karma exists and was at work here today.
Another weather system has swept over us, melting most of the snow and giving us an envigourating combination of rain/freezing rain. The property looks like one of those blasted, muddy battlegrounds of WW1.
As is usual these days, the woman let me stay inside while she did our housekeeping. She shovelled, I watched - the usual arrangement. On her way out with the wheelbarrow she gave me a meagre hay snack in the aisle and proceeded to tidy up our hay storage area. Unbeknownst to me, she had gathered up a huge ball of baler twine to put out in the garbage. Thoughtlessly, she tossed it over the half door leading into the barn and the whole thing landed squarely on my head. One minute all was Zen-like tranquility and the next, sheer terror. I only figured this out afterward - at the time all I knew was that some spider/octopus creature straight from Greek mythology was trying to smother me. I began snorting and plunging around blindly until the thing began to unravel and I could finally see what it was. The woman was all false apologies and comfort, patting me and making soothing noises, but she was smiling all the while...
She led me outside with the others and went on her way with the wheelbarrow. Nearly at the gate, she hit a patch of solid ice submerged under about six inches of melt water. Her feet flew up in the air and down she went like a ton of crushed stone. "Eeeeee, (sploosh) auuughaaaohcrap" she said. The waters parted in tsunami-like waves. There she lay, like a stunned Orca, staring up at the sky.
I made my way over and received a terrible shock. She is hardly a thing of beauty when upright, but seen upside down and on her back, the effect was unbearable. As I was averting my gaze, I registered the slight odour of peppermint emanating from her coat pocket area. I quickly changed focus and hastened to see if the contents had received damage. "Thank you SO much, Sheaffer" she said in an icy tone, much like the pungent brown water that cascaded off her person. She squelched off to the house, leaving me free to whittle the wheelbarrow handles.
I can only assume that Instant Karma exists and was at work here today.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Shamefully Neglected Donkey
I would like it to be known that I am not receiving my full quota of attention from the woman. What with planning the rescue of another donkey and the time she devotes to TJ, I am simply not getting enough of what is currently called "face time". I don't like it.
Today was actually sunny and we were able to warm up somewhat in front of the barn. The snow is so deep that we stay in that area, which is more navigable for short legs, but which allows TJ easier access for tormenting me. I got him in a scruff-of-the-neck hold this morning and he squealed like an angry pig. Ironic, as he is constantly using that hold on me and I remain stoically silent.
The snow is so deep in the fields that our resident wolf has been using the farm lane behind the barn for commuting. He's been with us for a few years and makes his home in the wooded valley at one end of our property. I am generally extremely anti-canine but he and I have agreed to ignore each other (I have the same arrangement with the house canine). He is very large and has a huge coat and bushy tail. His footprints are the same size as the woman's, she takes a size 6 but I don't know what that is in wolf.
He's extremely preoccupied - with what we don't know - and trots along, oblivious to his surroundings. Molly and the woman have surprised him several times while out riding. When he finally notices them, he gasps with surprise and does an excellent side-pass before tearing off into the woods. The humans have also surprised him when walking our own canine and she woofs at him and then hides behind the humans' legs. I can empathize with him as he seems to be a contemplative, reclusive bachelor who wants to be left to his own thoughts.
We don't have a photo of him as he moves too fast but the woman is putting a photo of our own canine on here. Like TJ, she is also a rescue case. She was a young single mother of six who was abandoned in Ohio in the middle of winter. A kind lady took her in, found homes for her offspring and taught her things like how to climb stairs (she hadn't lived inside before). My humans offered her a home and here she is two years later. Of course, SHE gets to live in the house...I'll say no more on that front as emotions run high (well, mine do - the humans won't even discuss it). Her name is Penny and her ancestry is a complete mystery. I suspect she crawled out of a canine spare parts bin.
Today was actually sunny and we were able to warm up somewhat in front of the barn. The snow is so deep that we stay in that area, which is more navigable for short legs, but which allows TJ easier access for tormenting me. I got him in a scruff-of-the-neck hold this morning and he squealed like an angry pig. Ironic, as he is constantly using that hold on me and I remain stoically silent.
The snow is so deep in the fields that our resident wolf has been using the farm lane behind the barn for commuting. He's been with us for a few years and makes his home in the wooded valley at one end of our property. I am generally extremely anti-canine but he and I have agreed to ignore each other (I have the same arrangement with the house canine). He is very large and has a huge coat and bushy tail. His footprints are the same size as the woman's, she takes a size 6 but I don't know what that is in wolf.
He's extremely preoccupied - with what we don't know - and trots along, oblivious to his surroundings. Molly and the woman have surprised him several times while out riding. When he finally notices them, he gasps with surprise and does an excellent side-pass before tearing off into the woods. The humans have also surprised him when walking our own canine and she woofs at him and then hides behind the humans' legs. I can empathize with him as he seems to be a contemplative, reclusive bachelor who wants to be left to his own thoughts.
We don't have a photo of him as he moves too fast but the woman is putting a photo of our own canine on here. Like TJ, she is also a rescue case. She was a young single mother of six who was abandoned in Ohio in the middle of winter. A kind lady took her in, found homes for her offspring and taught her things like how to climb stairs (she hadn't lived inside before). My humans offered her a home and here she is two years later. Of course, SHE gets to live in the house...I'll say no more on that front as emotions run high (well, mine do - the humans won't even discuss it). Her name is Penny and her ancestry is a complete mystery. I suspect she crawled out of a canine spare parts bin.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Something Exciting and Something Shocking
I have discovered many like-minded persons on the Donkey Breed Society Forums, which is based in England. It sounds like a wonderful country, with many donkey-focused humans - as it should be. Along with my extended family on this blog, it makes me feel there may be hope for the world. TJ still doesn't believe any of it.
Last night when the woman was doing her brushing and patting with him, she went to give him a horse kibble from her pocket and he received a small static shock on his muzzle (we have a lot of those at this time of year). I actually feel sorry for the lad. He had a complete meltdown and now won't let the woman put her hand near his head. She's beside herself and feels just terrible. I explained to him that it was an accident and that nothing has changed. He's adhament that the nightmare is beginning all over. He has hardly eaten anything and has the screaming squitters again. Although it was a very minor shock, he says it reminds him too much of the electric cattle prod that was used on him in a former home. Oh dear.
We are also trying to extract another donkey from a terrible home. His feet and teeth have not been done in years and he lives in a pen with a herd of sheep. The owners (jailors, really) feel that twenty dollars is a ridiculous sum to pay for a hoof trimming. I simply cannot believe that there are donkeys who live without deep beds, cups of tea, walks in the woods and night-time snacks. These seem to me the minimum requirments for a donkey. I will lobby for legislation of a donkey bill of rights when I become President.
Last night when the woman was doing her brushing and patting with him, she went to give him a horse kibble from her pocket and he received a small static shock on his muzzle (we have a lot of those at this time of year). I actually feel sorry for the lad. He had a complete meltdown and now won't let the woman put her hand near his head. She's beside herself and feels just terrible. I explained to him that it was an accident and that nothing has changed. He's adhament that the nightmare is beginning all over. He has hardly eaten anything and has the screaming squitters again. Although it was a very minor shock, he says it reminds him too much of the electric cattle prod that was used on him in a former home. Oh dear.
We are also trying to extract another donkey from a terrible home. His feet and teeth have not been done in years and he lives in a pen with a herd of sheep. The owners (jailors, really) feel that twenty dollars is a ridiculous sum to pay for a hoof trimming. I simply cannot believe that there are donkeys who live without deep beds, cups of tea, walks in the woods and night-time snacks. These seem to me the minimum requirments for a donkey. I will lobby for legislation of a donkey bill of rights when I become President.
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