There are few things more eye popping than tumbling out the front door at the butt crack of dawn to let the dogs out and almost tripping over a mini donkey sleeping on your front porch. Apparently, the gate latch, though cleverly designed, was no match for nimble donkey lips in the wee hours of the morning. Tony, the two year old mini donkey, was happy to see us and scrambled up to show us what he did to our poor potted plants and the pumpkins on the porch. The little criminal.
Why is it that an escaped horse will sneak off to a tasty spot while an escaped donkey will try to break into the house? We’ve rescued several donkeys over the years and every single time one got out, they brayed their triumph while running in circles around the house, or made nose marks on a window until you nearly jumped out of your skin, or, apparently, laid in wait to ambush you on the front porch?
I did not bother with a picture this morning, but here he is stealing my hammer for the fifteenth time the other day. And people wonder why farm chores take so long around here…
Tony the mini donk!
And he wasn’t stealing the hammer, he was trying to help you do chores. It’s not his fault he doesn’t have thumbs.
