STILLNESS

donkey jen watches me arrive home

A day of feeling a loving spirit, clear mind, continuing to mourn Caterpillar, though not in the way that wrings my heart, rather gently, quietly, still within, unable to do anything. Carrots to the donkeys, seeds to the birds, squirrels and chipmunks, noting the squirrels and chipmunks don't run when I step outside. The birds don't fly as far as they used to. They tell me I am at peace with the world of the wildlife I live among. They know me and I know them. This morning crows lit up in the woods across the road when I went out with carrots for the donkeys. Next thing would be throwing seeds to the crows at their feeding station across the road near the mailbox. Doves, snowbirds, possums snack there too, anybody passing through, and the crows. It was comforting this morning to hear the crows, see the bird activity in the rhododendron and nearby trees, chipmunks scuttering just a few feet away, anxious for the two feeders to be filled. My neighbors have become my friends, Caterpillar's world. She did not bother any of them. She'd lie on the ground like a gray rock and watch. Birds would peck a few feet from her, her whiskers would wiggle and she'd make involuntary squeaks.

 

donkey jen

 

Coffee, French roast, or something like that. It's African coffee I imagine from a French colony. Talked with Carole awhile. From there on, all I wanted to do was sleep. Went back to bed. Once I lie down, missing Caterpillar comes forward. More than an hour of rolling back and forth from side to side, all that was happening was misery overtaking me. Got up, went to another room where I keep old photographs and found two big photos of Caterpillar, took them to the bedroom and pinned them to the wall so I could see them waking in the morning and at nap times. I allow the need to wallow in the grief, but don't let it indulge itself beyond satisfying the need. I can't suppress the grief. It would be a disservice to my love for Caterpillar to cut the grief short, bypass it, deny it, pretend I feel nothing. The grief is a part of it. I've been here before, know the feeling well. Everything is so different now. A living spirit is missing from the house. Objects are just stuff now. The interior of the house feels like it has lost its spirit. All that's left is the bones. Emptying Caterpillar's water bowl was a difficult moment.

 

jack nibbles his grain

 

Picked up the McCarthy book and read for quite awhile. Did not want to hear music or see any sort of video. Only wanted quiet and stillness. Slept for a few hours. Woke, went back to sleep for a few hours. Woke, back to sleep. Decided to sleep as long as I felt it. Awake til 4 last night unable to sleep for being miserable. About dark, I woke up and felt like staying up. All day I noticed a loving feeling within that went with all  my thoughts. People who came to mind, I felt a loving attitude toward. In this way it has been a beautiful day never leaving the house, but to take grain to the donkeys in the late afternoon. I've been concerned that Jenny's udder has not developed when she just has six weeks to due date. I googled pregnant donkey care and found right away the udder does not expand until about a month before due date. They recommended breeding donkey to deliver in early summer so baby donkey can be born in warm weather. I can't help but wonder about donkeys that live in wild herds in the Rocky Mountains and in the Andes. I don't think they program it to deliver babies only in the summer months. Jenny and Jack's baby will have to acclimatize to the cold quickly. Jenny and Jack will keep it warm.

 

donkey jack (l)  donkey jen (r)

 

I won't need a cat or a dog when Jenny has her baby donkey. I'll not push Jenny to let me handle her baby. I want it to be all hers. I know her jealous nature and will honor it. She will be supremely jealous with her baby, or so I suppose. I'll take my time getting to know the baby without giving Jenny any suggestions I want to control it or take it from her. I'll enjoy her with her baby, stay back and wait for the baby to come to me of its own will. I look forward to seeing Jenny as a mother. My guess is she will be a wonderful mother. Jack will be a proud daddy too. I will have a new friend to love. I look forward to knowing Jenny's personality as a mother. Since she fell in love with Jack, she has been quite another woman from before. The Jenny I know now is Jack's companion of the heart. Next, I'll know Jenny the mother, Mama Jen. Jenny in her maturity has become a beautiful donkey, Penelope Cruz donkey, silver-gray like Jack with the dark chocolate line running down her spine from the top of her head to the tip of her tail. They are African herd horses like zebras awfully much, even in a way like camels. I like having access to such a being, to know one, consciousness to consciousness, to learn how to communicate across the consciousness divide in silence without language. Donkeys have lived among humans as long as dogs and cats have, and much of that time more intimately.

 

donkey jen

 

 

*

  

 



GENTLENESS WORKS

jenny chews a carrot

 

The chill of winter creeps in the open door after sunset. It approaches in the gloaming. The gloaming is the time of day between sunset and dark. No distinct shadows, the entire sky the source of light. The clouds change colors, make a slow light show in the sky. I looked up gloaming in the dictionary and found it to be Old English from the word glom for twilight, akin to Old English glowan, to glow. This is what I like about the gloaming, it's glowing quality. I looked at synonyms and found most of them had to do with dark and shadows, shade. Not my association at all. I had to think about it and remember the latter part of the gloaming fades into dark, but it is a short time. The glowing sky appeals to me about the gloaming. Outside that time of day, a pink cloud will catch my eye and I'll think, the gloaming. Edgar Allan Poe liked the sound of murmur. I like gloaming. It has a similar feel, less French, more English. The g's at both ends are very soft.

 

jack chews a carrot

 

I continue to feel sorrow over the family of sister's boy. Inside myself, I see no constructive purpose in hitting a child, despite all the justifications. The kids I've seen grow up who were never hit by parents have no anger in them as adults. They're gentle, sensitive, intelligent people with unlimited potential. One went through Berkeley's PhD program. Another is in Philadelphia doing her internship with two more years to go. Two of the most balanced, intelligent people I know. Others I know whose parents vented their frustrations on them, calling it discipline, have high blood pressure from anger, an out of balance life full of conflict drama. I have raised several dogs and cats without hitting them or scolding them. They were more obedient than obedience training could accomplish. I treat them right and they want to please me. Kids want to please parents that treat them right, and kids want to annoy parents that don't treat them right. It's karma. You get what you give. It's also a basic law of physics, action > reaction. 

jenny's Cleopatra eye

I never hit, scold or talk down to my donkey friends. I feed them snacks, talk to them in a friendly way, touch them gently with no intent to control. They regard me the same. I have no concern about either one of them kicking me. They would not kick me, because I am only gentle with them, because I am their friend. I have disproven everyone who has told me the donkeys will kick me, I need to carry a stick. Maybe with donkeys I don't know, but not my donkey friends. I would be hesitant around a donkey I don't know. They're fast. They react quick as a cat. With a donkey I don't know, I'd approach it with arms down at my sides, not moving them. I'd want some carrots. Without carrots, I'd talk to the donkey. I have found with animals I don't know that they listen when I tell them they have beautiful eyes, beautiful fur, beautiful ears, beautiful nose. Donkey Jenny melts when I tell her she has beautiful Cleopatra eyes. They are groomers. They're vain about their appearance. I tell them they're beautiful, that I adore their eyes, their smooth fur, their tails. I become for them a human who notices them as they want to be seen. They don't forget. Next time I see them, we know each other.

 

caterpillar's eye

 

The four-leggeds seldom meet a human who connects with them as conscious beings. They want this connection so desperately that when they get it, they cherish it. It's how I instantly become friends with dogs and cats I meet. Years ago, one day walking in the woods on a snowy day, a tan and white pit bull came bounding through the trees at me, barking furiously. I had no gun, no stick. Against a dog, I was totally defenseless. By then I knew dogs well enough not to be anxious. Dog stopped about ten feet away, to check me out, smell, measure and weigh me, assess whether I was a threat or a friendly. I spoke to the dog. How you doin, dog? Told him I liked his colors, said he looked like a big, powerful dog. Dog walked toward me. I didn't move. I let the dog sniff legs and feet, hands. I talked, told him I was impressed by how fast he could run. Next, he was asking me to pet him. I pet him some, talked some more and the dog proceeded to walk with me. Some new people moved into a house nearby, dog was out exploring its new territory. The dog and I were friends from then on.

 

jenny's beautiful nose

 

 

*

 

 



WALKING THE DONKEYS AGAIN

donkey jack at the lake

 

I went out with carrots for the donkeys this morning early. The thin cloud of morning dew glowed over the grass of the meadows in slanted sunlight. No donkeys. I called for Jack, hoping, knowing better, they were resting and being incommunicative. They were gone. The hole I fixed in the fence was not it. I knew then there is another hole and the hole is along the south fence. I went to the house, filled the grain bucket and took a bag of some carrots out of the refrigerator, picked up car keys and left. I knew by the way the fences around here go, the donkeys would be in the same place I found them the day before, near the lake, water. The land itself and the corridor of fences would lead them to the lake. I drove the two miles to the lake and there they were, happy to see me, like usual. I gave them carrots and fed them grain by hand. They like eating it out of my hand. They use their lips like fingers. They never touch me with their teeth. Their lips pick up the grain. Big soft lips, like camel lips, feel good rubbing on my hand, tender.

 

jenny grazes beside her friend catfish

 

I decided that today I am not walking over the mountain again. Still worn out from yesterday's trek over uneven ground and Christmas tree stumps under knee deep groundcover, the desolation of the once beautiful ground was too depressing to dive into a second time. I'd found a gravel road made by Christmas tree growers that bypassed the house with the dogs. This road made it possible to walk the donkeys out by way of road where I could lead them with the car, grateful they follow the car. I headed out and they followed. They walked the first mile fresh and spirited. Second mile, they grazed the sides of the road and took time outs. I allowed them. They are not used to walking steadily for so long at a time. I wanted them to be comfortable and to nourish themselves along the way. Twice we passed gates similar to the two gates to their meadows. They left the road and stood against the gates like they were home, they were done walking, waiting for me to let them in. No, this isn't it, we have a ways to go. It took some effort to distract them away from the gates. I shook the grain bucket, which always works. They don't see carrots from a distance.

 

jack examines the vegetation

 

The car's engine overheated in the first mile of idling, sometimes in N rolling downhill with foot on brake keeping it down to one to two mph. Rolling uphill, I kept it in low range, foot on brake, watching donkeys in the mirror. One time, they started running and I let the car roll a little faster, staying ahead of them. The running subsided and they were back to grazing along the side of the road. I saw they were both eating brown oak leaves that evidently fell from a tree, connected to twigs, after a wind storm. They stopped in a place where several of these leaves were lying in the grass beside the road. Jenny was chewing on them too. They acted like they'd found candy on the ground after a parade. Donkeys are particular about what they eat, though they eat almost as wide a variety of vegetation as goats. I could see they were more tired as we progressed, thinking two good morning walks in a row would enhance their stamina to a degree. I went through a range of emotions during our two mile journey. Even thought about saying something hurtful, like, "If y'all aren't good, I'm gonna sell you." It was too mean a thought to even think. They were better than good. It was my fault they got out. They followed me back both days so perfectly, so willingly, so by free will, I could not call them anything short of good donkeys, thinking that the moment I held the money for them in my hand, I'd fall into such despair I'd have to jump off a cliff like Judas. It would wreck my entire life. 

 

jack shy of the camera

 

I'm glad they had two very different walking experiences. First day over rough ground, up and down, woods to explore, new scenery. Second day they walked a gravel road and a paved road long enough distance to wear them out. Yesterday, they did not want to go into the first gate and I took them to the second gate close to where I park. This morning they were ready for the first gate. I could not unhook the chain fast enough for them. They had a lightness in their step entering the meadow. They were visibly happy to be home. I poured the last of the grain for them. They spent the day in the shade of their shed, resting. I felt good about them, felt like it was healthy for them to get out and walk a few miles, healthy for me too. It will give them a little more stamina to get through the winter. I rested throughout the day, dreading going out to look for the hole in the fence they went through. I called Justin and asked him, please, to come over and look for the hole in the fence for me. I can't do it. Too spent. It worked out just right. He and another guy were coming up here anyway to fish Willis's lake. He found a place the donkeys could get through and some hair on the wire, a strong suggestion. It was the only place along the south side that would lead them to the lake. The donkeys were so lazy I never saw them out grazing all day. They hunkered down in their shed, their energy center, resting in their barn while I rested in my barn.

  

jack happy to be found

 

 

*

 

 

MORNING WALK WITH THE DONKEYS

donkey jack and his shadow

A phone call at 11 last night asking if I knew of anybody in Air Bellows with donkeys besides me. What? If so, I don't know about it. Donkeys were in their meadow, the dogs were barking like crazy, and the pregnant pause of unspoken, What you gonna do about it? I said I can't do anything about it. It's dark. I can't see. I'll take care of it in the morning. First thing, before 8, I went out in car and found them in the meadow, as told, near a bunch of cows they'd found. Jack saw the car and came running braying. I drove down to the lake where I thought I'd leave the car and walk over a long hill to a place to cross the creek on the other side of the hill to go out a gate to the road. Could not drive back and have them follow me the way I came. It would mean going back through a bark fest of two dogs with no training. The donkeys would not walk through them. I parked the car, gave them their morning carrots beside the lake with a calm, peaceful surface. I told myself this exercise will be calm and peaceful. I'll walk across the mountain and they will follow. I poured some grain for them before our sojourn.

 

jack vacations at the lake

 

We were not walking long before it was like being out walking with two dogs. They did not always follow me. They explored out to the sides, explored ahead, found some woods and decided to explore them. I had to enter the woods for them to see me. They did not respond to calling. They saw me and followed me out of the woods and on down the hill. This is the farm I worked for seven years, a beautiful meadow covered with Christmas tree stumps and plant life on the ground I'd never seen before, very little of it native, anyway native to my experience. I felt sorrow for the ground. Generations of valuable topsoil blotted out. Next, it will be subdivisions, roads, driveways and lawns. I cherished my mortality all the more. It was a long walk. I was aware of not stressing my blood pressure walking up the long hill. Took my time, walking slowly with a stick in one hand and a bag of carrots in the other. Donkeys follow more of their own free will when I have carrots. The carrots run out, motivation to stay near me goes poof. Without something for them to eat, I'm of little to no importance.  They like me, but I'm not a donkey, don't have donkey priorities. Out on a walk over new territory, there is much going on around them that's more important than me, new greens to eat, new ground to explore.

 

 

jack and jenny found

we walked up the hill behind jenny's back

it's longer than it looks

 

Jenny watches Jack to see if he finds something and Jack watches Jenny to see if she found something, simultaneously while they explore for something new to eat. I don't even figure in their curious search. I was their slow friend who takes awhile to catch up. They figured I was safe, knew what I was about, went where I wanted to go. They followed me down the hill well. It was a fairly steep hill to walk down. Down a steep hill is more difficult than going up. I walk down the hill on my heels, more stiff-legged, and it requires balancing. Up the hill is on the forward part of the foot, flexed legs, leaning forward instead of backward. I saw the donkeys walked carefully down the hill. They walked stiff-legged too. It was fun out walking with them. I don't like them getting out, don't want them getting out, but don't mind them getting out. We had a good walk over a half mile rough ground with growth to my knees, me trusting I won't step on a rattlesnake. It's the only way I could walk through there was trust in the Divine. I've learned to trust going anywhere in peace. I had no ill intent, no ill feelings about the donkeys. Wasn't mad. We went for a walk together to see the world.

 

jack at the lake

 

I like for the donkeys to know the landscape around their meadow. I don't like them getting out, but I feel like it educates them to a degree. Everybody here on the mountain knows they're benign and  people friendly. I walked them on to the gate we went through onto the road. Up the hill and down the hill on the road we walked, donkeys taking their time, tasting vegetation along the sides of the road they recognized that they like. I did not want to push them. I was so worn out, I was in no hurry. I walked the whole course gently without stressing self or advancing my breathing. Walked at a comfortable pace uphill and downhill. The donkeys would walk with me better if I walked at their rate of walking. I'm so slow, it bores them to walk with me. They distract themselves with passing vegetation. We took our time sauntering down the road, a family outing. Fortunately, no cars needed the road. I walked them into the gate, poured some grain for them, and checked the row of fence along the backside of the rhododendron row. I had a feeling it was not there, but thought I'd check it since I was there. Came to the house, watched  a film about photographer Julius Schulman, went to town for a prescription, came home, took a nap. Went to the other end of the meadow and found the place I'm certain they went through. Patched it up and feel satisfied they will be waiting for carrots in the morning.  

 

 

jack sez, hee-haw

 

 

 

*

 

DONKEY JACK'S AND JENNY'S BIG ADVENTURE

donkey jack

 

At the Carpenter house across the road and into the trees, we were aiming to watch a movie after dinner. Judy and I went to a Cuban restaurant in West Jefferson, Havana Café, for lunch. It was in the zone beyond good, delicious Cuban cooking, finished with a fine cup of Cuban coffee. It was the best meal I've had since last time at Havana Café. We bought supper, too, because the food was so good, and carried it back to the house in doggy boxes. Lucas had wounded his back and was laid up at the house with heating pad and a book. A Latin family sat at a table next to ours. They had three darling little kids. Judy and I talked quite a bit about how beautiful the children were, radiant faces, charming personalities. Their movements were free-flowing like dance, beautifully behaved by excellent, loving training. It was a joy to sit next to the family, the spirit among them, a family together happy, or seeming so. The atmosphere in the place, what I felt stepping inside the door, was open and clear, light, warm and receptive, the aroma in the air of Cuban food, an olfactory cello vibrato. Makes me want to be born in Cuba next lifetime. And even better, was seeing Selma again. The feeling inside the restaurant is Selma's spirit.

 

donkey jen

 

I came back to the house after supper, before dark, to see if Caterpillar had taken to lying on the warm road surface when the cool air of evening came in. She's taken to lying on the road since her fur was shaved. I understand her purpose, but wanted to be sure she was not in the road before we settled in to watch the movie, Fast and Furious One. She was not in the road, so I called her, and gradually she came into view from wherever she was napping. I took her inside, put down some fresh food for her, and left her inside the house. Headed back up the road and saw Jack and Jenny grazing the grass beside the road. Exactly what I did not need just before dark. I backed down the road to the house, went in and put grain in their bucket and walked up the road after them. I walked Jack into the gate by the road, and he turned around and bolted out the gate, looking back at me with a laughing eye, you can't catch me. I walked back to the house and returned in the car. They were gone, out of sight. I had not been more than five minutes and they were nowhere in sight. I went to the place the bear leaves territorial markings, a good 180 degree view of the landscape. No donkeys. I brayed for Jack and called their names. No response. Only an echo. I thought I heard Jack snort twice. Jack cannot resist braying back to me when I call him with my version of a bray. We sing together and he loves it, as do I. No response from Jack. The last time I saw them, they had an attitude that they were not paying me any mind. I gave up looking at dark. Lucas came down to the road looking for me, wondering what happened. We went and watched the movie.

 

donkey jack

 

I woke up this morning and went for a walk calling for them. No response. I thought I'd do better staying at the house. Somebody would see them and call me. The call came. Lucas and Judy had left to go home. They found Jenny near the Parkway, a mile from their meadow. Judy walked Jenny back to the first driveway, surprised at how readily Jenny stayed with her, where they waited for me. On the way there, I saw Jack in the road looking lost. I knew they'd have a different attitude in the morning. I let him be, and went on up the road to find Jenny. She was waiting next to their car. I gave her some carrots. They drove on. I stayed with Jenny, let her eat several carrots to relax her. I felt I would have better success with her relaxed, bring it home to the two of us. I gave her a handful of grain, which she ate out of my palm. I went back to the car and drove at donkey pace with Jenny walking behind. I did not want to hurry her, especially did not want her to slip and fall. It was a downhill grade, slick on pavement with hooves. We found Jack. I gave him some carrot and grain. He was visibly relieved to see Jenny. I stayed with them a few moments, a few more handfuls of grain, talking to them, touching them, relaxing them, myself in awe of how easy this project turned out to be. We weren't home, so I was not yet in celebration mode. It was a half mile to their meadow left to go.

 

donkey jen

 

I drove slowly, at donkey walking pace, watching them in the mirror. A few times one would be distracted by something growing beside the road that looked worth checking out. I'd hold the grain bucket out the window and shake it. They know the sound. It distracted their attention every time. I crept along, allowing them to walk at a comfortable pace. I was thinking how glad I am they walked two miles on pavement. Now they are comfortable with the texture. I felt like it would work on their hooves, which could use a trimming, file them down a bit. When I saw them close, they looked like it might have helped a little. Jack has been working on his  hooves digging at the dirt. His hooves were needing a trimming, then he filed them down himself. They are back to just right. I felt like it was good for their hooves, good for their leg muscles to go for a two mile walk, good for their minds to spend a night away from home scared all night not knowing where they are. I pulled the car into its parking place. Picked up the bucket of grain and walked through the gate into the meadow, donkeys following, picking up their pace walking through the gate, visibly glad to be back. I poured the remains of the grain for them. They took note with a nibble, and Jack walked in a bee line to their bedding places in the shade of the rhododendron, Jenny close behind. I walked back to the house happy this dilemma was so easily resolved, even glad it happened. They had crossed the creek the first time ever. The gate to the other meadow beside the house I had open for next time moving them back. They followed their donkey curiosity.

 

donkeys behind bars

 

 

*

 

 



JENNY AND JACK'S NEW MINERAL BLOCK

john henry twachtman

Drove to town today for a bag of sweet grain and a mineral block for the donkeys. I let their last mineral block go too far. There was still plenty left, but it needed replacing. Jenny is in special needs now and I want to give her access to what she needs. The hardware store has a big pet German shepherd that lies at the doorway, either just inside or just outside. Today dog was outside. He's a gentle dog, not a remote threat. I speak to him and let him know I see him and will not kick him. I've learned the animals watch our feet. They're heavy and we swing them like hammers when we're walking. I tell Caterpillar I see her when I walk by her having a drink of water. The mineral block is approximately one cubic foot and weighs the same as the bag of grain I sling over my shoulder to carry, fifty pounds. A fifty pound square block is awkward to carry. I carried the mineral block from the car to the gate, hoping I could slip it between two bars. Didn't know if I could lift it over the top of the gate, about even with my shoulders. I don't have the strength or the stamina I once had and didn't want to push it. 

john henry twachtman

Both donkeys ran to the gate when the car drove in and parked. I carried the block to the gate and was able to slip it between two bars at the level I was carrying it. The donkeys were standing at the gate, anxious for a treat from the ice cream man. Jack brayed and Jenny kicked him in the chest a couple of times, both back feet. I thought I'd push it through the gate and let it fall to the ground the other side. Jenny had a better idea. She took a corner with her teeth and chewed off some small chunks. She chewed at the edges using her teeth and the power off her jaws to bite chunks from the corners. Jack nibbled at another edge. She allowed Jack to chew to his satisfaction. Jenny licked and Jack licked. They were like kids licking an ice cream cone. I held it in place letting them quench their need for the salt. Jenny had a big smile in her eyes. Jack was a happy donkey too. They went at it with such zeal I felt like I'd neglected them waiting too long to buy a new block. I remembered that every day I take grain to them and every day they go at it like they hadn't had their grain in a year. 

john henry twachtman

Jenny eats the carrots at least twice as fast as Jack. I try to keep a balance between the two, I know they notice, though Jenny always gets more. She's ready for a new one before the carrot she's working on is done. Jack stands and crunches until the whole carrot is chewed up before he wants another. I've decided to take more for Jenny. She needs more. She's feeding her baby too. Jenny is a slow walker with four months to go in her pregnancy. Jack runs like a polo pony to the gate at carrot and grain time. Jenny walks slowly with a gentle loping rhythm, a camel walk. Jenny taking so long to arrive is a change in their rhythm. Most often, they arrive together and I give one a carrot at one end of the gate and one at the other end. Jenny is the aggressive one. Jack having carrot when Jenny arrived late, he turned his back end to her and would not let her near the gate. She didn't appear disappointed, just stayed out of his kicking range. I tried tossing a carrot chunk over Jack to the ground at Jenny's feet. She couldn't see it. I threw another and she couldn't find it. This confirmed for me they don't see well looking downward toward their feet. Their entire head is in the way. I've seen it in Jack, too, that they don't see downward very well. 

john henry twachtman

They turn jealous as fast as they kick, so I stay out of the meadow with them. I take grain out into the field, can't pour it for the first one to arrive until he or she is there to see me pour it. If they don't see it, they can't find it. Jack arrives first, I pour some for him and here comes Jenny, diving at Jack with her teeth to run him away. I go to another place for Jack. Most often they settle down. Sometimes, Jenny will keep Jack away from both places. This is when I say, "I'm going to my barn," and leave them to it. They settle as soon as I walk away. I've seen them both eat from the same little grain pile at once, when they didn't know I was looking. Dogs and cats are the same. Humans too. Throughout my life I've learned from animals I've known. In the first weeks of getting acquainted with Jack, I asked him to teach me donkey nature. I enjoyed knowing Jack, one on one, friends. It changed the day Jenny stepped into the meadow. All his attention went to his babydoll. It's a sight how much Jack loves Jenny. Jack and I still know each other like before, it's just that his consciousness is totally tuned with Jenny, and hers with him. 

john henry twachtman himself

*

DONKEYS IN THE SUMMER MEADOW

I don't see much of the donkeys in their summer meadow. Can't see them out a window and can't see them when I step outside for all the trees and rhododendron around the house. They have a walkway along the fence behind a long wall of rhododendron and trees. In a corner of the fence, the Christmas tree growers on the other side of the fence have piled dead trees for several years. The donkeys have found it for a shelter. I've noticed they are not wet after a rain, so it's working for them. They can see the whole meadow and the road from the corner. If a pack of coyotes were to attack them, they could only go at them from one side. Coyotes would know better than to make an attempt. They learned about the donkeys a year or more ago. One night last year they found the donkeys lying down at the far end of the meadow. They yipped and hollered and I heard one let out a cry of pain. The others went quiet and walked away. I heard the one hurt squealing as it walked away. I suspect Jenny connected with one. They've not been back. 

The gate at the summer meadow is big and awkward to give them carrots through or the grain. Jenny in her pregnancy with four months to go does not like Jack too close. Jack is ready to go all the time and Jenny is not having it. I don't go into the meadow with them much. Jenny is so raucous with Jack, I don't like to be between them, where I inevitably find myself. They are quick as cats. Jenny doesn't want Jack too close to me, goes at him with her teeth or her back knees and hooves. Jack raises his chin out of range and takes both Jenny's hooves in the chest like a tree. She kicks him over and over. He stands still taking it, chin up high. I stand inches from their twisting around, kicking. Jenny goes into automatic and I don't think her automatic setting cares if she kicks me. I know I only have to touch her to settle her down, but she moves so much, so fast, I get flustered, don't know which way to move to dodge her. Jenny can spin completely around faster than I can take one step. 

I give carrot to Jack and Jenny attacks him. I give carrot to Jenny and she spins her back end to Jack and he backs up. I carried the grain bucket out into the meadow yesterday. They were at the other end of the meadow. Jack came running, ran up to me slowing down, ran by and came back. I poured the grain on the ground for him. Jenny was walking until she saw me pour the grain for Jack. She came running. I moved to the spot I'd pour the grain for Jenny. She ran up to me with a big smile on her face, ran past and came back. I poured the grain without much interference. They were far enough apart they ate in peace. As soon as they start eating the grain, I vanish from their attention. I tell them I'm going to my barn and leave. They don't care. In the morning at carrot time, after the last carrot I hold up my open hands to show them no more carrots. They back away and return to the meadow. They seem happy in this meadow. Jack made a dust circle right way for them to roll on and dust their backs. They are shedding their winter fur. They are at the stage of shedding they look like they have mange, patches of very short new hair mid the longer hair in bigger patches. 

Melvin dropped by this afternoon soon after I'd finished painting. I took some grain to the donkeys as he was leaving. He watched them come to the gate when I called for them. I called out my braying sound and Jack joined me. We brayed until Jenny gave Jack a sound kicking. It's like it annoys her when he brays. Or she thinks he wants on her back. She danced around and kicked Jack, backing up to him kicking with her back knees. Jack, ears up, eyes wide, backed away and she stayed with him. Melvin said, "Jenny's bein a bitch." Jack bears with it. He accepts it as what his babydoll does.  Her nature. He's never known another woman. I don't know that he's seen another donkey besides Jenny, except mama. The same applies to Jenny. They are each other's only acquaintance with donkey. I poured the grain over the gate for Jenny first. Went to the other end, out of Jenny's kicking range to pour it for Jack. Jenny came over and chased Jack away from his grain. He walked over and ate her grain while she was eating his. She attacked him again. Didn't want him eating her grain. He walked back around to his original pile and they ate in peace. Day and night they are side-by-side in peace. It's that quantum physics thing that the observer changes things. They get excited and jealous when the ice cream man has treats. The rest of the day they graze together, seldom more than a few feet apart. 

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DONKEYS IN TRANSIT TO SUMMER MEADOW

donkey jen

The donkeys have spent the last couple days in their summer meadow lush with fresh grass and yellow wildflowers. I walked them over there one morning and they followed in line all the way. Walked them back in the evening and they followed in line again. This morning I opened the gate for them to follow me to the other meadow and they both meandered away following their own curiosities. I wasn't alarmed. They were wanting to walk in areas they've only seen, graze the grass beside the road, kids walking home from school. I'm happy for them to have their own minds. I like to let them follow their curiosities, discover something new. Yesterday, I wore a new tshirt that had new tshirt smell. Jenny wanted to sniff it. She sniffed carefully, took ahold of it with her lips, feeling the texture, then with her teeth. She likes to examine my shirts. Every time she takes a small pinch with her teeth, she gets pesky and tugs on it. I let out a small yelp and she lets go. They explored the area around the bird feeders, Jenny in one area, Jack in another. I knew their eyes were on me while they explored. They weren't going anyplace. I walked on to the gate and they fell in behind, Jack in a gallop. 

jenny's lips

I learned on the way back this evening that Jenny is the one to lead with. I opened the gate and they came out from their shelter among the rhododendron. They have found a place the Christmas tree growers have been piling dead Christmas trees against the fence for years. Evidently, it makes a good shelter. Yesterday, rain had fallen in a good shower before I went out to move them. They emerged from their shelter only slightly wet. I'm glad to note they have a shelter. I bring them back at night because of rain, so they can have shelter in their shed. Too, I like walking them from one meadow to the other. Today I noticed both Jenny and Jack standing at the edge of the road like they were thinking about stepping onto it. I don't want them comfortable with the road. I may transfer them less. I'll put them over there in the morning and leave them there for awhile, now that I'm assured they have good shelter. Walking back this evening, Jack was the first one out the gate. Jack is a rambler. He likes to look around, sniff and taste. Jenny then falls in with Jack sniffing and tasting. I'm ok with it and am glad to let them take their time. It doesn't take long for them to lose sight of purpose. 

jenny's eye

jack's eye

I remembered that Jenny follows close to my back and Jack falls in behind her. Jack takes the lead and he meanders wherever his curiosity takes him. I encouraged Jenny with a rattle of the grain bucket. Her ears perked up and here she came, Jack close behind. I walked on through the gate, Jenny with her nose at my back, to the place I pour the grain for Jenny. Jack had taken a digression and fallen behind. He came running through the gate for his grain poured for him in another place. They have no more jealousy of me with the grain after it's poured. Jenny used to swing around on me if I came to close to her while she was eating. She doesn't worry over me wanting her grain anymore. Jack used to snort at me sometimes for stepping too close to him while eating, but he's not doing it anymore. I stood there among them for awhile watching them eat, feeling happy, a love sensation in the heart, affection for Jenny, a donkey I know well and is my friend, and the same for Jack, a donkey I knew well that is a friend. We've bonded. I feel safe with these massive beasts that can be dangerous as a mountain lion or wolf if they take a notion. Either one of them could kill me in just a few seconds were they to take the notion. They will not take the notion, because I feed them, talk to them, feel with them, treat them right. 

donkey jack

I found a video today of somebody demonstrating how to clean donkey hooves. At first, I felt like it was out of my league. It pulled me in when I saw this guy knows donkeys well, really well, while he was talking about reading the donkey's thinking. He knew. He even spoke of them not particularly liking being touched. Interacting with each of the two donkeys he worked with, I saw he started with his hand on the front shoulder, where the cross crosses on the back, and move hand out from there. Jack taught me that some time ago. He doesn't like me to put hands on him by surprise. He likes a hand on that spot. Jenny too. I put hand there and move out from there to wherever I want to touch. I can easily lift Jack's foot off the ground when I go at it calmly and in no hurry. This guy in the video did exactly with his donkeys as I do with Jack. I learned it from Jack and the guy in the video learned it from donkeys, too. I listened to everything he said and by the end of the video believed I could clean both Jack and Jenny's hooves. He emphasized throughout the video the danger in working with donkeys. I noticed that his donkeys responded the same to just the touch of a hand as do Jack and Jenny. It calms them down noticeably. When Jack was new here, I asked him to teach me donkey ways. I saw in the video that Jack has taught me quite a lot, enough that I understood everything the guy in the video was saying. 

return to the meadow

photos by tj worthington

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LEADING DONKEYS HOME

jenny pushes jack

A week ago I put the donkeys in the other meadow, the one they will not cross the creek to graze. They'd chewed their meadow down to not much left. I can't see them in the other meadow. Even outside, trees obscure the view to the meadow. I only saw them in the mornings when I called them to carrot time and afternoon calling them for sweet grain. I realized yesterday I miss them. Never see them in the window anymore or when I step outside. They rested in the shade of the long row of rhododendron much of the day. Jenny in her sixth month of pregnancy seems careful about running or walking too fast. She follows Jack instead of leading him. She has a quiet, inward attitude in her face and body. Jack wants to be close to her, but she chases him away when he gets too close. He's a bit shy of her. Another case of a man unable to comprehend a woman. She says, leave me alone, and he can't do it, so he goes about perplexed. What's wrong with women? I can see it in his face. It's a classic case of men slow to get it that women are mothers with an important mission. Every woman responds differently, due to physical, emotional and mental circumstances. It's ridiculous to talk about this. It's so particular to individuals, nothing can really be said. The complexities make understanding a course of study. Jack is learning Jenny's ways and how to live with them, same as she is learning his ways and adjusting herself too. This is why I've asked their future human never to separate them. Learning each other is an ongoing donkey kickfest. Time goes by and they kick less. Maybe after some years they'll have their issues worked out. Jenny came into the meadow a year and a half ago kicking and biting. She fought Jack for months. Six months with Jack, she fell in love  and they've been lovers ever since. 

jenny pretends to bite jack

It's true that an observer changes things. They can be grazing peacefully, side by side, and I show up with carrots, they come running. Jenny first. Sometimes Jack is first if Jenny takes her time walking, which she does more and more. Jenny takes her carrot and dives at Jack with her nose to push him away. He stands to the side munching his carrot. He just stands there when he's ready for another, Jenny glaring at him telling him to keep a distance. I step over to Jack to give him carrot. He takes it with a downward glance that says, thanks. Humility is Jack's most notable characteristic, like jealousy is for Jenny. Jack defers to Jenny in every instance, given exceptions. She is bigger than he, which buys her the independence she likes. During play time, they do their martial arts sparring, never to hurt, only to tap, neck wrestle and dodge bites. A donkey is a powerful biter. Considering they chew all day every day, their jaw muscles are strong. I don't want to be bit by a horse or a cow, either. I talked yesterday with a man I know around my age who has a donkey in a meadow with some calves. He knows the donkey, but doesn't interact. He told me he had somebody come to trim the donkey's hooves. He came out of the experience wide-eyed at a donkey's power. Him telling me what they had to do to make the donkey submit made me bug-eyed. I must be having Jack's hooves trimmed soon. Curious how he will take to it. First, I must find a halter and put it on him. It's hard to tell. He's easy to handle, but I don't know if he would be for a stranger. I don't want to make it a contest of wills. I'm thinking if Jack has his hooves trimmed, Jenny will want it too. All that is in the unknown zone. 

jenny and jack back home

In late morning I decided to move the donkeys back to their home meadow. It was the easiest transfer yet. I opened the gate, Jenny stepped out of the gate and went after the bucket of grain in my hand. I stepped ahead of her, telling her we're going to the other meadow and she'll have the grain there. She walked behind me as if obedient, and Jack behind her. I walked through the gate and they followed. Took the grain to Jenny's spot first. She was happy. Took some to Jack's place, him squealing and snorting, flaring his nostrils, curling his upper lip. He was eating before I finished pouring the grain. Caterpillar was outside, sunning on a spot about four feet from the path I walked the donkeys on. They paid her no mind this time. Last time I walked them by, Caterpillar was curled up on a mound of last year's leaves. Jenny stopped to have a sniff. Caterpillar was on edge, though knowing she was safe. I've taken her to the gate to meet the donkeys a few times. She doesn't like it, but I want them to know her, smell her, identify her by scent. They know Caterpillar lives in the barn with the Ice Cream man. I was glad to see Jenny so gentle with Caterpillar, sniffing and allowing Caterpillar her space too. Her movements were slow and nonthreatening. Caterpillar was tight as a banjo string, ready to strike if Jenny's nose touched her. Jenny's head is bigger than all of Caterpillar. Jenny satisfied about the cat, she stayed with me as we proceeded successfully through the gate. This was the smoothest transfer of all.  

caterpillar blending in

DONKEY SHENANIGANS

zhou huang

Adventures with the donkeys the last few days. The grass is growing fast. They've shaved their one acre meadow. They will not cross the creek to the other acre of meadow. I found I can open the gate to the suburban meadow, go back to the gate to their home meadow, prop it open and walk the donkeys across the yard next to the house, around the car to the other gate. They will not step onto the road, so I have no concerns about them meandering into the woods across the road. My rock walkway makes a good trail for them to follow. I've decided to move them to the suburban meadow, give them a chance to chew down the good grass waiting there for them fresh and tasty. Home meadow's grass needs a chance to grow and fulfill its potential. It has been nibbled since it came up out of the ground not many weeks ago. Thursday morning I thought I'd see if they would follow me from one gate to the other, like the time we made the walk in the winter when they walked out the gate behind my back. They were immediately curious about everything around them, the world the other side of the fence. I walked behind Jack, let him lead me, walking with him. Thought it a better way to direct them by joining them rather than struggling, yelling, hitting. I walked them to the other gate, they walked in behind me. I walked around a bit, to show them where they are. They liked it. Jack remembered it from his first two months living there before Jenny entered his life. He took Jenny to his favorite places, showed her good sleeping places, good hiding places, the walkway through the rhododendron where they become invisible. I let them graze all day and in the evening they were waiting at the gate to return home. I opened the gate and they followed me through the other gate to home. 

vincent van gogh

I realized this was the key to getting them to graze the meadow across the creek they will not cross. They will walk from one gate to the other and think it a wonderful thing to do. Thursday morning I decided was a good time to walk them over there. I had not taken into consideration that then it was winter, no growth on the ground to eat. This time, full-bloom spring, green long-leaved things everywhere. Jack stepped out of the gate and walked the trail I roll haybales down, up to the grass growing beside the road. He found a good grazing place. Jenny walked around the birdfeeder, chewing ferns, daffodil leaves, tasting these new leaves she'd never experienced. She was having a good time. My only concern was cars, the donkeys bolting from fright, but remembered they see cars go by every day. The mail carrier drove by and I stepped to the road and waved, just to get her attention so she'd see a donkey in the grass beside the road. She went on by and Jack didn't budge. I was glad to see him so relaxed with a car going by a few feet from him. He knows they are pods humans ride around in. Jenny's explorations were looking a little too independent of paying attention to me. There I stood with a donkey grazing beside the road and a donkey exploring among the rhododendron, wanting to see what was behind the house. They were past control by my will. I went into the house, put some grain in the grain bucket, took it outside, shook it like a big rattle. Donkey ears went up and here they came, excited. I have a reason for giving them the grain over the fence. They get awfully excited, kick, dance around biting and pushing. I learned not to go out into the meadow with the grain. 

father frans claerhout

They're like two little kids jumping up and down and clapping, so excited they bump each other and kick. It's play and it's the opposite of table manners. It's mostly Jenny's aggression and Jack's self-defense. God blessed him with a woman bigger than him who can kick his ass. He defers to her, allows her to be first, though he's so excited he doesn't want to wait, but Jenny will nudge his nose with her nose, grunting, snorting and Jack backs away. It's not that he's afraid of her. It's that he loves her. He can kick her ass, too. He can take her down to the ground when he wants to. They are each other's martial arts sparring partners. Jack does not kick Jenny to hurt, but Jenny will smack Jack in the ribs with both back hooves, a broadside, and he stands there and takes it. Doesn't even show on his face he felt it. He felt it. Jack is stout. They gathered around me with the grain, Jack on my left, Jenny on my right, both of them attempting to push me off the path, not by intent, but by excitement. They were wound up tight, snorting, Jack moaning, Jenny pushing. They were gentle with me, though, containing their excitement from overwhelming the boneless human. I slung my right arm over Jenny's neck, which she's not inclined to allow but in quiet circumstances. I wanted to hold her, hug her and she let me. We walked side-by-side, my arm around Jenny's neck. It calmed her. I let go when she was ready and let me know. Jack was getting frisky on my left jumping in front of me excited to have some of that good sweet grain, on the verge of overwhelming me. I put my hand on his side as a bumper and the touch calmed him way down. He stepped in behind Jenney, Jenny behind me, and I walked them through the gate. I had to walk fast. They were in a hurry. 

connie pirtle

I found a good spot to pour some for Jenny. Jack found it first, Jenny ran him off, I poured some for Jack in another place. Jenny stepped over, pushed Jack away, big powerful Jenny asserting herself with donkey power. Jack went to the grain I'd originally poured for Jenny. She came over to push Jack away from it too. Just as I had stepped behind her from one side and Jack from the other side. She made an air kick at Jack, a kick not meant to hit him, a warning. The hoof touched the middle and ring finger of my right hand, just a tap. I knew it was not meant for me, knew she'd have been repentant if she'd hurt me. It's feisty donkeys doing what donkeys do. I don't want to change any of this behavior out of them. I want them to have the opportunity to live their lives as complete donkeys with the least human interference in their behavior. They are mates for life and happy for it. They are calmly at ease grazing side by side all day long, playing, napping. We have an agreement among us that our interest is the other's good. I am happy feeding them, and they are grateful I feed them. They are grateful for much I do for them, carrots every morning. We know each other, consciousness to consciousness, soul to soul. A love flows between all of us. I am one of the three that we are. Though it gets crazy when I'm between them carrying something they both want first, them pushing and shoving, punk mane bristles sticking straight up, ears up, heads up, snorting, stomping, I know I am as safe as sitting in this chair, though between sparring donkeys is not the most comfortable place to be. I know they mean me no harm and will not hurt me, but I get my ass out from between them, quick. They step out of rational mind into the sea of subconscious donkey kickboxing emotional mind and I don't exist there. I'm glad to find the touch of my hand calms them so quickly. A good thing to know when needed. 

  

claude hunt

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