Making the Turn

Mother was up and brushing me the other day. Even though the weather is still wintry, she noted I am starting to loose hair.

Half the fun for Mother of my greyness is that she never knows exactly what I will look like once I am done shedding. My mane, tail, and sort of my legs have been hanging on to their darkness, but the rest of me is varying stages of fleabitten and vaguely dappled.

It's good to keep her guessing... and apparently you, as well, as the last picture she's taken of me is from early October:

How am I supposed to be a super-model if my photographer never has a camera?

Random Assortment

Happy 2015!

In ways that I can't fathom, you humans say it is 2015. I just know it's the beginning of winter. I am looking forward to the snow, but looking forward to the grass of summer even more.

Mother is even MORE of an absentee owner during the winter, what with the shorter days and less than pleasant weather. But my Aunties are reliable with the food stuffs, and I have my Belle and donkeys, so if I have to wait a few days longer than I would like for the cookie lady to show up, ah, well.

Here's hoping for a Happy New Year!!

The Root of All Evil

Uncle Jeff, my dentist, came up earlier this week. He worked on all of us... well, Fat Donkey only got checked, but the rest of us slid into a warm, Happy-Place stupor.

It was amusing. Aunt Nancy brought over her Big Horse, so at one point all 8 of us plus Big Horse were in the barn.

What with hay stalls and such, there are only three working stalls. Picture, if you will, Callie and Bert in one stall (which they voluntarily do all the time), Big Horse with a stall to himself (The Luxury!) and Belle and I standing drunkenly together in the aisle. The drunk donkeys were piled in the working dentistry stall, with cute little rugs on to keep them from getting chilled.

Chilled donkey. Ridiculous.

My teeth were in great shape, and one of my donkeys was perfect, but one other donk was packing her cheeks with hay and so had lots of tarter. The other young one had a few caps that needed removed. And Belle had to have a scraggle tooth extracted.

Hey, I don't judge... but it was a little hillbilly-ish. Incisors are supposed to go up and down.

So now, Aunt Carol and sometimes Mother flush out the root hole with warm salt water and get out all the nasty gunk Belle shoves up in there. Belle whines about it, but I point out to her that I had to have those sort of machinations on my face for MONTHS. She can suck it up for a week or so.

Mother says it is time for some dewormer, too. Between perfect teeth and no worms, she better stop complaining that I am getting fat. With the best weight lose methods not available, what's a horse to do?

Four for Six

Mother's not doing very well in the cat caretaker department. She was feeding us this weekend while the Aunties were away, and unfortunately Rosie, the short haired barn kitty, was found unresponsive and had to be let go. Rosie was well upwards of sixteen... eighteen... ??

Scooter and Callie, being older, were needless to say looking nervous. Mother's not having a very good track record this week.

Mother had to wish one of her kitties goodbye today, the one most like a tiger...

Good-Bye, Gru

Oldie but Goodie

Julia and the ear massage

No More Mr. Green Eyes

I've been toodling along as usual. Mother shows up a couple times a week, sometimes to do stalls, which is sort of nice because Belle and I go on the grass, and the donkeys clear brush in the Multipurpose. Aunt Mary even came up one day... it's been forever. She brushed me, and loved on me, but still went off with the donkey for a drive. Too bad I'm not so interesting, eh Aunt Mary?



Mother did take the donkeys' pictures, sent in the registration... and still no pictures of me. What the hoof, Mother?

She and Aunt Erin have been taking Julia out driving a lot of the times when she does come up to the barn. I'm not sure whether to be jealous or relieved, because really, she should be spending time with ME. On the other hand, the wee one is pulling someone who weighs more than her all over the place, so... I wouldn't want to trade places.

How much would Mother have to gain to weigh more than me?

Speaking of too much weight, Mother's cat Mr. Smothers has been freshly diagnosed as having problems like I had. Apparently, this causes Mother to pierce him again and again.

I am content in my run-in and pasture and with Belle. It's best not to be too envious of the animals Mother spends more time with.