I realize the Brothers Grimm tale of a donkey, dog, cat and
rooster is fictional but mismatched inter-species friendships happen all the
time. Take my trio of donkey, horse and sheep for example. Some animals just
don’t like to be alone, so they pair up with whomever they can find. Others
could care less, are quite happy in their solitude, and use their independence
to torment the pack-dwellers at times. I am thinking of Donkey as I write this.
When the two Belgian horses arrived at the farm, Donkey was
quite smitten. He followed them around the barnyard and they tortured him by gracefully
shaking out their long blonde manes and thundering away across the pasture,
leaving him to follow with his weird sideways trot.
After Ashley died suddenly and unexpectedly, Misty was left
without her half-sister, best friend and leader. She climbed the manure heap,
using it as a lookout post, and whinnied, tossing her head that way she does, looking
for her sister. Every day for over a week she ran up and down the pasture,
searching for Ashley. Eventually the Farmer pulled her aside for a long talk.
He took Ashley’s old halter down off the hook in the stable and held it under
Misty’s nose as he spoke. Then he put the dead horse’s halter on Misty, and
Donkey got Misty’s discarded adornment.
That week Misty decided Donkey would be her new friend. She
formed an attachment to the funny little guy and in many ways, he rose to her
expectations. She no longer had to walk the pasture unaccompanied or sleep
alone at night. When something truly scary like a barn cat or squirrel scurried
by, Donkey got between it and the massive cowardly horse, protecting her.
Unfortunately, Donkey also likes to tease the horse at
times. He doesn’t mind being alone, and is often strolling independently out to
pasture while Misty isn’t looking. Many times she has come crashing out of the
barn, in a panic, looking for her friend. She calls him again and again but he
doesn’t answer. He just stands in the hedgerow out of sight, silently chewing
and twitching his ears, as if he is amused at her discomfort.
When we sold the sheep I couldn’t give up Gracie. The Farmer
warned that she would be ‘coyote bait’ without the rest of her flock. Safety in
fluffy numbers, I guess. I am happy to report he was wrong, so far.
Her first week as lone sheep on the farm, Gracie stayed up
at the barnyard, nickering and calling for her flock-mates. One day she even
followed the truck that took them down the road to see if it would lead her to
a reunion. She got distracted and wandered into the forest instead, and I had
to go and pull her back out.
It took a long time for Gracie to get the courage to follow
the horse and donkey down the field to the pasture meadow. But somewhere along
the way, she decided that she would be safe from the coyotes – and from Donkey,
who has been known to entertain himself by biting and chasing sheep – if she
just stayed tucked in behind the horse. Sometimes she appears to be right under
the horse. I just hope she doesn’t get stepped on.
I wondered what the horse thought of this new attachment. In
the past she kept her distance from the sheep – particularly the lambs –
because, I think, they made strange noises, she didn’t like the way they felt
when she accidentally stepped on them, and anything small, fast and
unpredictable is particularly terrifying her. It’s the elephant and the mouse
story all over again.
The other day Misty started out to pasture, picking up the
pace to catch up with Donkey. Suddenly she stopped, turned and whinnied at something.
I went out onto the porch to see what she was excited about. Gracie was there,
limping along. The sheep was favouring one foot that had been nicked in a hoof
trimming session and it was slowing her down. The horse was telling her to
hurry up. When the little sheep stopped to catch her breath, the huge Belgian
trotted back up to the barnyard to accompany her on the long walk. I think she
would have carried her if she could.
Email: dianafisher1@gmail.com
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