My son spent a morning with two donkeys on a ranch in the hills.
He knew nothing about donkeys. He’d never met any before so he didn’t know what to expect. They were not used for anything other than ornamentation on the property, like trees.
They were in a corral. My son went inside softly and stood there to gauge their reaction. He didn’t want to frighten them as is so often the case with horses that don’t know you.
“Go up and pet them,” said the ranch manager.
And he did. They came up immediately to his side and allowed him to pet them, talk to them, and feed them a treat. They were happy to stay there all day with him.
“They’re like children, actually worse. They’ll eat themselves to death, they have no sense of when to stop. And these two like to wander. If you let them out, they’ll take off and won’t come back,” the manager said.
The property manager was hoping to find them a new home. I guess he was tired of chasing them all over the hills. They had become a nuisance.
What did he expect from ornaments?
They had no purpose in life.
We’d be traipsing all over the place, too if we didn’t have things to do.
At the end of the visit, my son declined them. He already had two dogs to take care of, he didn’t need two bigger ones.
Calvin says, “You’re close to hurting my feelings. Am I a nuisance like that? I thought you adored me.”