Pastures R Not Us

A year ago I never would have thought that the quality of our field pasture would be a hot topic of conversation. The fact of the matter is it's looking a tad poorly.  Rick brushhogged it last weekend, but it may take another year or more of that treatment to allow the grass to overtake the weeds.  As for now, the weeds are winning.

So, the donks get turned out in the pasture to scavenge what grass they can for 4-5 hours and then, on days when I'm able, I let them out of the gated-area completely so they can get some decent grass for an hour or so.  Means babysitting them though to make sure they don't wander.

Problem is they're pistols to round back up.  Today Rick and I cajoled dear Gabby with cookies, shoves and pulls into joining up with Franny back in the donkey yard.  But those feet were planted with utter determination.  Finally she was convinced and all three devils were back inside.

By the way, Dudley is useless as a donkey herder.  Just stands there and let's us do all the work!

A Visit From Bobby

When four-year old Bobby came to visit the donks recently, the high points included:

• watching donkeys poop
• taking a picture of a donkey butt
• feeling soft lips eat out of his hand and giving treats  

These Donks Are So Funny

After bringing a lawn chair into the donkey yard and plopping down, the donkeys gathered round.  We got some real good scratching time in and then Luigi started his famous ever-so-slow-backing-up-so-I'm-invisible move.  That large behind came closer and closer until he was snuggled up to the side of the chair.  Gabby, who is the least affectionate of the three, practically crawled into my lap.  I thought she was going to take both of us down, so sadly I had to shoo her away (as cute as they are, you still have to remember they're 300 lbs).  At one point I was laughing out loud at their ridiculously goofy behavior. 

And then there's Franny.  The perfect little donkeys who loves all kinds of pats, rubs, scratches, hugs, and kisses.