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

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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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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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