WALKING THE DONKEYS HOME

the road

Woke up in the morning, looked out the window and saw white spots on the ground. Went to the door, opened it and saw sleet all over the ground, rocks wet, rhododendron leaves hanging down covered with ice. The Cosmos was telling me the trip is off to Charlotte to see Daniel Biggins' band, The Seduction, play at the Milestone with three other bands, a CD release party. I knew the ice would not be a factor from the place I was scheduled to meet Daniel in Cherry Lane, though between here and the meeting point would be more ice than I care to address. Driving home at 4am in unknown conditions, more than likely worse, convinced me this is not a good time to go. The Cosmos knows. Much as I'd love to be there at this moment, a few hours into the show, it's not a problem. The future is open. I'll hear the band again. This coming week I'll find Daniel to buy some copies of the band's new self-produced CD from him. I already know it will be a good one. I wanted to hear the other bands too, Viajando, in particular. The two bands play together fairly often. Maybe I'll get to see them with DSR (Dirty South Revolutionaries), who, by the way, are playing in Atlanta this weekend, a Charlotte band. My feeling about the Cosmos shutting me out of this event tells me another show is coming up soon even more to my liking. Since my first show at the Milestone, I've been wanting to go back. I like the vibe there. I like the people there. My mother saw a video of Daniel's band last week I put up on facebook. She wrote in comments: "Did you get out of there alive?" I wrote her back, "They are wonderful, friendly people, nobody gets hurt" The people I'm among in there give me a good feeling about the future. I see the people in the bands artists. They explore new compositions of their own. Talented songwriters among them as well as guitar players and drummers. I see talent galore. And I hear talent. They rock the way I like it.   

dsr

Looking out the window at the weather, I saw the donkeys in their new meadow, heads hanging down, the precipitation sticking to their backs, walking to a sheltered place. They looked so forlorn I decided carrot time would be the best time to put my new hypothesis to the test, walk them from one fence to the other, leading them. I went to the gate with carrots. They were visibly glad to see me. I stepped inside and gave them each a carrot, relaxed, tuning in to them. Jenny stepped through the opening. Jack stood beside the gate and wouldn't move. OK. I followed Jenny and Jack stepped around to the opening and joined us where Jenny was making the decision not to step onto the road looking like ice with a small stream of water was running down the road. I walked by Jenny and around the car, Jack following me and Jenny following Jack. I walked them by the house and to the gate into the meadow. Jack walked in behind me. Jenny found some fresh hay on the ground beside the fence where I roll hay bales down the hill. She followed the trail of hay up to the side of the road, found nothing there of interest. I picked up some hay to carry into the meadow and she followed me through the gate. Nothing big deal about it. We went for a walk. I wanted to keep this sojourn as volunteer on their parts as possible. I never directed either one. I walked from gate to gate and they followed entirely of their own volition. I feel like they will learn the walk from gate to gate better by walking it out of curiosity than being directed. To them, this side of the fence is my world. They see me in it every day. I'm glad they found a chance to check it out relaxed, following their curiosity, Walking them to the other gate in summer would be another matter. We would need to make the walk before the jewelweed gets past seedlings. The donkeys love jewelweed. I give them each a jewelweed plant in summer for dessert when carrots are gone. They would not pass the jewelweed patch until it was all eaten.  

jack and jenny wait for me to help them find their way home

Another bridge for another time. I don't believe we'd get very far in summer volunteer walking. It could happen, but Jenny has a curious eye and a will of her own. They don't eat only grass. I see what they eat from what grows up where I spread their biscuits for fertilizer. They appear to like daisies. Jenny's name before she became Donkey Jen was Daisy. I was inclined to go on calling her Daisy. I don't like to change a pet's name. Talking with Justin about it, he said, "I'm gonna call her Jenny. You can call her anything you like. She'll always be Jenny to me." I was good with calling them by what they are. Male donkeys are Jacks and female donkeys are Jennys. They're probably the most common donkey names. Good. I didn't want to call them cool made up names like Jellyroll and Tulip. Jack and Jenny are good names. Little Richard sang her song. Jack is a name I associate with a friend of my parents when I was a kid. Jack and DeLouris. I loved Jack and DeLouris. I wanted to know them grown up, but Jack died of cancer before I could know him as an adult. DeLouris is gone too. DeLouris was Billy Graham's first cousin and would not allow it to be mentioned. My mother thought it was the coolest thing there ever was, but DeLouris did not. I mentioned it to her once and she said we're not going to talk about that. Jack and DeLouris took me to see Elvis Presley's first movie, Love Me Tender, 1956, seventh grade. It was billed, "Mr Rock n roll in the story he was born to play!" To a teenage kid getting caught up in the new stars of pop culture, it was gloriously sentimental. Elvis died at the end, sob, sob. And then he came back in Hollywood swimming pool movies surrounded by babes in bathing suits and high heels. He died and came back in a martyr's heaven. The name Jack has its own happy association. I don't think about the other Jack when I'm with Donkey Jack, same as I don't think about Little Richard with Jenny. They're just name associations. 

elvis the pelvis

It felt good this morning to walk the donkeys back to their home meadow after a night out. The precipitation set me in motion, wanting them in their home meadow before much more of the ice was on the ground. I wanted to get them to their shelter, knowing they were uneasy, especially after sleeping outside their den all night. Gone camping. They were safe and Jack knew where they were. I imagine they slept wherever he slept. It turned out to be a good experience for all concerned. I felt like the whole experience was for the three of us to share. I didn't go nuts and scare them out of their wits. They walked to the other gate, I thought it would be a good time to introduce them to the meadow the other side of the creek, and a whole lot easier than trying to get them back to the gate they came out of while they were in full exploration mode. Gave them an acre to run in and memories for Jack. This morning they were ready to go home. I took it for a success in how my philosophy plays out in the world. I felt a twinge of alarm when I saw Jenny walk by and Jack close behind her. There would be no turning them around. I put the hay down and entered their flow. It's the three of us out for a walk, not me in charge. I know better than to think I can take charge of a donkey. I relaxed into their flow. They went to the other gate out of curiosity. I've a confidence now that were they to get out and wander someplace before I know they're gone, I'll be able to walk them home simply by joining them on their walkabout. No need to round them up with a switch and holler and cuss, get in there you jackass bitch. About the time somebody talks to Jenny in such manner, she will be alienated from that moment on. Jenny is a proud woman. I'm happy with my relationship with the donkeys. Jenny has a brilliant mind and her own will. I like both characteristics in her. I want to allow her her own mind. The journey worked out successfully both ways allowing Jenny her curiosity, joining her in it, flowing with donkey mind instead of against it.  

donkeys at home

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CALF RAISED BY DONKEYS

21

The temperature has risen to 40, melting the ice. The white ice on everything was beautiful to look at, but it is even better to see it go. I put the donkey's hay close to the fence this morning because it felt less desolate for them under trees than out in the open ice and cold. Fog is coming back, the trees rain melted ice. The calf in the meadow with the donkeys has been on my mind and has been on my heart. It is coming into its personality. I'm more able to see consciousness there, something to interact with. I've prayed for it and see now that it has come into what I've been looking to for it. I've not known what to do for it. Its fate appears to be a solitary existence in cow form, a herd animal. Its story is the sad tale of cows, meat. 21 was taken from mama way too early, even to indifference way too early. My friends who buy and sell cattle asked about leaving two or three calves in the meadow. Sure. Glad to have something in the meadow. The calf was set loose in the meadow when the grass was green. Weeks old. It learned about grazing. It slept in a small stand of ironweed close to the fence. Coyotes would taunt it in the night, all around it, yipping their ear-piercing puppy yelps. Immediately on hearing them, I run out the door and holler, GIT, full bass roar like the giant got out of the box. It's the only thing I've found to work. I tried banging pot lids, pots, anything that clanged. The coyotes paid it no mind. One loud Git and they are gone. Concern for the calf haunted my heart and I did not know what to do. It's not my business. It's on its way to cheap meat. It was born on the production line. It was afraid of me and ran to the other end of the meadow. I believed it was short-term temporary, and left it be somebody else's concern.

 

jack September 2013

 

I had been hearing about donkeys keeping coyotes away, and seeing out on the county roads one or more donkeys in a meadow with a herd of cows. A Jack came up for sale from somebody I knew at very reasonable cost, a rebel yaell price, hail yeah. Donkey turns up in the meadow one day. I didn't know what to do. It was a beast. Much bigger than me. I was aware of a statistic I'd heard on NPR some years ago that less people are killed in plane crashes around the world per year than are killed by donkeys. I thought: Donkeys? I continued to think, Donkeys? I'd think about them being African herd animals originally. They're not too different from zebras that are famous for being untamable. Sheena of the Jungle rode a white horse with black lines painted on it Fifties jungle movie obvious. The donkeys have a naturally humble nature. It lends them to being used by humans to carry things, as tamable as a dog. A significant difference I've observed. Dogs forgive. Donkeys are like cats. They get you back, if not right now, first chance. Before I learned anything about donkeys, I'd only been told to stay out from behind them. I went up to the gate that was close to where I park and looked at the donkey. It came walking to me eventually. We gradually, tentatively, became acquainted, both of us cautious. Once acquainted through the gate, I bought carrots at the grocery store. Lord have mercy, how tasteless they are. The donkeys love the crunch and more than likely the taste. Suddenly I'm realizing these carrots are bred for high sugar content. Might be more to it than I imagined when I call myself the ice cream man. The human in the barn delivers morning sugar rushes. Crunchy sugar cubes. Or maybe I'm exaggerating. The donkeys like the carrots and that makes me happy.

 

jack and 21

 

A creek divides the greater meadow into two meadows of equal sizes. Donkey won't cross the creek. Calf was on the other side of the creek. Donkey stayed in the meadow he was released into. The calf crossed the creek a time or two. They were acquainted, but uninterested in each other. The calf evidently found the donkey unpredictable and stayed on its own side of the creek. The calf seemed to have no awareness. It was aware that Jack was not a welcoming presence. They stayed in their own yin-yang meadows with Spring Lizard Creek running between them. I don't recall the time in months, but another calf was brought in, number 23. I don't know if I can find a picture of 23. An update with restart, and all my pictures are gone. I believe they are still in the computer, but the likelihood of me finding them is similar to the chance of finding the Malaysian plane in the Indian Ocean, the post-modern needle in a haystack. I'll not worry over it, will keep on a-keepin on. The two calves were conceptually far apart like from pre-beginning pre-school for 21 to maybe first grade for 23. The new calf was somewhat socialized, had known other calves. The calf in the meadow had been living solitary since knee-high, no learning from mama or other calves, a baby left to the coyotes in the night. Jack did not chase away the coyotes. They surrounded him a few times. A moment from the movie, Runaway Train, a young, vulnerable woman, a railroad employee, screams at Jon Voight's character, "You're a Beast!" He answered, "Worse. Man." The coyotes, like everything else, know the two-leggeds are lethal. The new calf, 23, became a teacher for 21, who started coming to. Then 23 had an accident, was taken away to die after a few days.

 

21 and jenny

 

I was puzzled about what to do. Two herd animals in solitary confinement either side of the creek. Stepped into the meadow with Jack and got to know him gradually. I chose to name him Jack because it is the most common name for a male donkey. A Jack means a male donkey. I like that it has associations with a friend of my parents when I was a kid, Jack of Jack and DeLouris, who drove a brand new pink and gray 55 Ford convertible. I thought Jack was great. I loved DeLouris like crazy. I did not name Jack the donkey after this Jack. I just like the association. Keeps someone in memory who was important in childhood. I decided to put out a search for a girlfriend for Jack, another Bethlehem Cross donkey. Jack was lonesome. Found Jenny, brought her here in a horse trailer. Jack took off after Jenny in complete unconsciousness. She kicked him all over his body, neck and head so he could not bray for a few days, only able to squeak. They were so rambunctious that the ice cream man stayed out of the meadow over a month. By the time hard winter came, the calves had shared the shed with the donkeys. All three mourned the loss of 23. Jenny became a friend and teacher to the calf, brought it a little farther along in awareness. The calf has grown to the same size as Jack. The three have their hierarchy worked out. Everybody is happy now that Jenny is here. Jack loves her single-mindedly. Jenny seems happy to be with Jack for her mate. The calf stays near the donkeys now, though out of kicking range. The calf has seen me touch Jack and Jenny. It has watched them at carrot time. It is three at the gate now. Jenny turns on the calf, doesn't want to be its friend anymore during feeding time. The calf has something of a herd now.

21

 

 

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SEEING LITTLE PEOPLE

air bellows gap air current




Pink and gray 1955 Ford convertible. In that year of pink and gray cars and blond furniture, friends of my parents, Jack and DeLouris, had both. I thought they were so cool. Rock & roll was kicking off with Bill Haley & the Comets, Chuck Berry, Little Richard. Delouris liked the new music too. I was in the 7th grade when Elvis's first movie came out, then Elvis Presley--his last name hadn't been dropped yet, Love Me Tender, I think it was called. Love me tender, love me sweet, love me like you love your feet, take the dirt between your toes and rub it on your big fat nose. My sister was 5 years younger in the 2nd grade when this verse went around that she brought home. Generations later, a girl who now is mid twenties and then was a child thought it amusing to sing, pretty woman walking down the street, pretty woman I can smell your feet.





In both cases I'm amused remembering that time in myself how funny feet were. My sister and I would say to each other, smell my feet, stinkin feet. As an adult I can't find anything humorous about feet in such a way. Our daddy had stinking feet. I think it was because he wore his shoes two sizes too small. In every generation of children's humor, feet are one of the really funny subjects. In this time of showers and easy water, there probably isn't much stinking feet going around. I expect in the old days, grandpa who worked the farm and only took a bath once a week had some pretty rich feet. We're more particular about our scents in this time. One of the delights about DeLouris for a kid was she got a kick out of knowing kids. She'd laugh at kid jokes, listen to what's important that a kid had to say, and Jack was the same. I wanted them to be my real parents, though I'm not sure that would have worked.




Pink and gray together always bring Jack & DeLouris to mind for their 1955 classic car that was classic when it was new. And they had one. In the 7th grade starting to pay attention to cars and style and music and keeping up with what's cool, I couldn't go see Elvis Presley's movie, Love Me Tender, because I needed parents for transportation and they weren't going to a ridiculous movie with Elvis the Pelvis in it. "He won't last." They were put out that rock&roll was squeezing out Sinatra, big band, Andrews Sisters, and the kid was listening to that screaming Little Richard. They could take most of it, even hip-shakin Elvis, but drew the line at Little Richard. I could only play him when they were not in the house.




The other kids in 7th grade were seeing the new Elvis Presley movie and talking about it in school, how it made the girls cry, how great it was. I was aching to see it, because I thought he was great--Heartbreak Hotel, Love Me Tender, two of the coolest songs I'd ever heard at age 13. Jack and DeLouris took me to see it. DeLouris and I cried when Elvis was shot and died at the end. Oh no. Dead Elvis. I don't even want to think about seeing it now, but then, it was art to a kid just discovering pop culture. Also discovered at the same time MAD Magazine, which started as a comic book until the comic-code was initiated to get rid of it. It went to magazine and is still funny as it was then. DeLouris thought it was funny too. Jack and DeLouris were my friends until they both died, Jack of cancer, and DeLouris of old age.


They were very important people of my childhood. Very important. They were adults that paid attention to a kid who was only waist high, easy to overlook. I wondered why it was that more adults didn't pay attention to kids like kids really are conscious people. In my adult life, Jack & DeLouris are an ongoing example of how important it is to pay attention to a kid. I don't always do it. In fact, I'm like the majority when it comes to not paying attention to kids. Now and then, however, I get to know a kid from knowing the parents. When I know a kid like that, I extend myself to them, let them see I'm open to pay attention to their interests. That's when I start seeing their intelligence. Some years ago when my friends were having babies, I'd sit on the floor and roll a ball back and forth, ask them about their toys. That's all it took. They run off and return with an armload of toys, spread them on the floor and tell me the story of every one. I've regarded those moments among the most precious of my life that I'd have missed by only looking over the top of a kid's head, probably would have missed had I not known Jack & DeLouris.


DeLouris and my mother were friends in high school, Shawnee Mission in Kansas City, Kansas. DeLouris's mother, who had her own apartment in the other half of the house, was from Charlotte NC and cousin to Billy Graham. My mother loved it. DeLouris hated it. My mother became what we call a church nut and DeLouris couldn't humor the extreme my mother became, and my mother couldn't go on being friends with an unrepentant sinner who drank beer. They eventually fell out and Jack & DeLouris fell away from my life. Many years later I got back in touch with them and visited a few times. We drifted apart, but continued to have our places in each other's hearts. That will always remain. Kids I've been friends with are grown up now and continue as valued friends. It's a wonderful thing, watching kids you care about grow up and go through all they have to go through in their teens and twenties; marriage, babies, debt. Now I'm knowing their kids. I remember Selma Diamond on the Tonight Show, the only time I'd ever seen her or heard of her, talking about baby-sitting and how much she loved it. Carson expressed dismay. She said, "Children are just little people." That's as precise a definition as I can think of.



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