By Jefferson Weaver
After a lot of long, deep thinking, I’ve come to the conclusion that my donkeys are far smarter than many people.
I am not the first to propose this philosophy, by any means; I find it interesting and significant that donkeys precede horses in the written word by about half a millennia, if you can refer some of those written languages as words. Cats seem to precede dogs by a slim margin, but let’s face it, man has told stories about evil beings since the earliest days around the campfire. And before you send me ugly letters, I love cats. I just understand their basic evil nature, and that some of them are benevolent minions of the Dark Side.
But I was blathering about donkeys. Now, I love mules, and for years, I had more experience with mules than with horses. Mules, in theory, combine the best traits of both horses and donkeys, and usually that is the case. My one and only mule, however, combined all the worst traits of her Arabian dam and Andalusian sire. I am reasonably sure that somehow there was some cat DNA in her somewhere.
We had been in the equine business for a while before I ended up with not one, but two donkeys. First was a mammoth jenny named Melanie who everyone thinks is a mule, but Mellie doesn’t take offense at the error. Then there came our standard burro Mabel, who everyone wants to hug. Thankfully Mabel is very amenable to hugs, as well as peppermints, apple slices, carrots, hard candy and anything else a human might eat that she thinks she, too, should share. Melanie is not as much of a glutton but she is not afraid of a treat or a stranger’s embrace.
The following statement will get me in a lot of trouble, but I have been hanging around my donkeys too much, and tend to call things as I see them. I noticed early on that some horse people tend to not like donkeys, and as I got to know some of those horse people, I discovered they weren’t really very likeable people.
One of the finest riders and equestrian folks I have ever met turned out to be one of the most mean-spirited individuals I’ve ever regretted knowing. She has a passionate hatred of donkeys and mules, and generally they don’t like her, either. That should have been the first sign, but I thought it was just because she was a Yankee. Like dogs, donkeys have good judgment.
As much as I love our grumpy old horses Red and June, I find myself drawn to the donkeys. I realized the other day it’s because people could learn a lot from donkeys if they wanted to.
While it isn’t true that a donkey (or mule) won’t eat themselves sick like a horse, donkeys do tend to know when to stop, think a while, and maybe come back later for seconds.
Donkeys aren’t quite as prone to panicking as horses; on more than one occasion, our donks have always stood their ground when confronted with stranger-danger, while the horses were attempting to tear through the fence, get in the house and hide under the bed.
Most horses can be cajoled, trained, forced, bribed, or threatened into doing something. Donkeys, however, must understand the entire situation first, then be allowed to make a decision based on the merits of the situation. You need patience and diplomacy to load a donkey onto a trailer, blanket said donkey in cold weather, or lead said donkey across a dark field in the middle of the night. They respect patience, not yelling or threatening. A plastic bag on the end of a broomstick will startle even the most stubborn horse onto a trailer. The donkey, however, will eye the bag, kick the broomstick (or broomstick waver) and sit down.
Donkeys rarely see a reason to rush. My Melanie is saddle-trained, and is content to allow the person on her back to guide her in the general direction they wish to travel. But as the lovely Shawn Kay Sanders (who is an incredibly skilled horse trainer) put it when she saddled Mel the first time – my donkey has no “go” button. You will get where you are going, eventually, but Melanie will still be able to go another hundred miles after everyone else has given up, but everyone else will get there first.
Donkeys are brave, and that’s one reason so many people end up with a donkey to “guard” their cattle, goats or other animals. Not all donkeys are good guard animals, but any donkey that has bonded with its herd will defend that herd to some extent. For example, back during deer season, an errant hound made his way down our lane, trailing a deer. Just for the fun of it, he decided to chase the chickens, then horses (I am sure he had no ill intent).
Well, the dog’s owner called me and asked if he could fetch his dog, but as he was doing so, Miss Rhonda was tearing through the front door – not to rescue the equines, but to rescue the poor errant hound.
Seems the horses ran past first, followed by the donkeys, followed in turn by the hound who must have thought these were the funniest looking deer on earth. He was baying his heart out when Rhonda heard his joyful hunting cries turn to screams of terror.
The previous parade was reversed – the hound came running up the lane, followed by two donkeys with their ears laid back, followed by two horses who were just trying to get under the bed to hide. Melanie and Mabel cornered the poor hound in the swamp, and were ripping their way into the brush when Rhonda called them off. I’m sure the hound spent the rest of the season in therapy.
Mel and Mabel had simply had enough, and decided to confront the threat. Donkeys don’t like bullies. Yet Melanie and Mabel will politely greet a dog who minds his manners when being properly introduced. Mabel gets a little tense, but Melanie has a well-defined live-and-let-live policy.
In short, I think we’d be a lot better off if some of these high-strung hysterians would take a lesson or two from my donkeys. A lot of people need to learn to calm down, not be greedy, try to get along with everybody, be loyal to their herd, and take their time making a decision – and when confronted by foolishness, solve the problem by sitting down and refusing to budge. Donkeys show us we need to learn patience – the destination will likely still be there, even if the journey takes a little longer.
And if all else fails, kicking adversity into the next county is always an option.
About Author
