I
went to visit a donkey sanctuary. Which
is exactly what it sounds like. A big,
beautiful farm, a little more than an hour outside the city (or less, if you
drive like I do/shouldn't) that takes in unwanted donkeys and mules, where they
live out their lives in comfort, just standing around, eating, sleeping, getting
lots of attention, with proper medical care.
(We should all be that lucky.)
This
is their main residence – a heated barn.
Boys on one side, girls on the other, like a high school dance. They can go in or out as often as they
please. In for lots of human attention,
which they are quite partial to, or outside to enjoy gorgeous views.
They're
very social creatures, forming strong bonds with certain other members in the
crowd. And it's a big crowd – the sanctuary
currently has almost 90 donkeys. Where
do they all come from, I asked. Mostly
from the province I live in, but some from out of province, and a few others from
the United States.
Who
suddenly decides they don't want their donkey?
Apparently there could be several reasons. According one of the very nice staff members,
some are there because they were acquired to protect herds of sheep, and it
just didn't work out. Go figure. I would try men with guns and vicious, well-trained
dogs myself. If you truly think a donkey
is a good way to protect your sheep, forget not only the donkey, but also the
sheep. You need to move to the city and buy
a condo.
One thing's for sure. I will never be known as 'that crazy donkey lady.' The cost of keeping a donkey for one year is about $1,300. I'm always disappointed when cat food isn't on sale...
This
is Da Vinci – he has such a beautiful coat, and thick now with the cold weather
setting in.
And
in the foreground is Dolly, who, along with standing around, eating and sleeping, is also
trying out for our Olympic fencing team.
Actually, Dolly has very sensitive eyes.
When the sun is shining very brightly like today, she needs to wear this
fly mask, to protect her sight. She can
see just fine through it. I'm sure I
heard a couple other donkeys making fun of her behind her bum though, so I spent the
most time with her.
And
here's Daisy, who is very chatty (they do kinda make a hee-haw sound, and they
draw it out for effect), and likes to strike a pose.
I
enjoyed a wonderful visit to sanctuary, but once again, my 50:50 adventure has
lured me to a location with an excessive amount of equine poopie. Somewhere on my list of things to do is a
butterfly conservatory. I won't be able
to scratch their heads though...
One Thing That >50 Me Has Learned Along the Way...
Obviously don't make a habit of this, but on rare occasions, it's
okay to have popcorn for dinner. Chances
are, if you feel like doing that, you probably need it. You've had that kind of day. I spent
years working at snack bars in various movie theatres, so I can tell you that stuff, yummy as it is (mine
especially!) is quite unhealthy, because of the oil it's popped in. (But please have some occasionally and stop
whining about how much it costs – selling food is how movie theatres make their
money; they make almost nothing at the box office.) At home, when you crave it as a main course,
use a hot-air popper, and have it with real butter. Not margarine, which converts popcorn into
mush, the same way it forms a puddle on your toast. Pop a multi-vitamin for dessert, washed down
with a V8, if that eases your conscience.
Tomorrow night, it's back to a serving of meat/fish with 3 veggies. Or a bowl of cereal; whatever...You've made
it this far without starving to death, so presumably you're managing okay.
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