Mum has been muttering that she is trying to save another donkey - well as long as it isn't coming here as it is cosy enough in the stable with the two titches without fitting in another donkey. We could have a mezzanine and shove Ferguson up there as he's the smallest, though I much prefer the idea of a Vodka Donkey Deluxe Suite, just for me.
Or an extension, personally I would go for a donkey wing just for us, away from those silly horses. We could have all our own things, our own food, and be perfectly independent. Mum says dream on. But we could have all sorts of gizmos like automatic watering, maybe a food hopper that keeps mangers permanently topped up with food, hay would magically descend like spaghetti from upstairs, I could design it all and it would be just perfect. Mum says I have been watching too much Wallace and Gromit and getting ideas about automation....
But back to this donkey.
Her friend in Australia has promised to send some funny foreign money called dollars and this will help save another one, who is to be called Dinkum, as in Fair Dinkum, which is something these funny foreigners say. I guess Dinkum will just have to grin and bear it, at least if he is saved, who cares about names - he can just pretend it isn't him and ignore when they call for him.
I mean they don't even call me Vodka, I get Voddy, Vodkin, so I guess names aren't that important. Being saved is the thing.
Sunday 29 June 2008
Finally I can cast a clout
It is almost the end of June and finally I feel confident that I could let go my winter coat.
Aimee and Ferguson have both shed their winter coats, and been combed so that they now are nice and sleek, though Ferguson is still a bit furry and fuzzy in places.
But not me, not a hair. I am still a hairy mammoth. This morning, I was absolutely covered in shavings so mum got the comb out and about an hour later, most of me was shavings and tangle free - she still hasn't got as far as my tummy (muchos tanglos in there) and there are some funny matted bits on my hind legs that no one is going to get near if I have anything to do with it.
She told me not to be a silly donkey and made my wear my headcollar and stand still - Dad was the other side of the door holding the rope (sensible out of reach of giraffe legs) while mum combed and teezed my long long coat. She said her poor old wrists aren't up to all this grooming so next time she is going to send me to a salon and they can have a go at a cut and blow dry. Maybe I will have a caffe latte and croissant at the same time - I didn't get one today, so I didn't leave a tip.
I still have tuggy bits on my fore head - another area you are NOT going to get anywhere near with a comb - but all in all I am a bit of a more fluffy and sleek donkey. I got that funny fly rug put on again (though it had been freshly laundered and didn't smell quite so much of donkey pee as I had lain down with it on and come up not smelling of roses but something slightly more eau de donk.....Mum complains that doing my laundry is not terribly good for her washing machine and her clothes sometimes come out smelling a bit suspect after my laundry has been done.
Simple answer, I feel I should have my own washing machine, a commercial size one so all my winter rugs can be laundered and pressed, and re-proofed etc. I will send instructions to room service immediately.
Aimee and Ferguson have both shed their winter coats, and been combed so that they now are nice and sleek, though Ferguson is still a bit furry and fuzzy in places.
But not me, not a hair. I am still a hairy mammoth. This morning, I was absolutely covered in shavings so mum got the comb out and about an hour later, most of me was shavings and tangle free - she still hasn't got as far as my tummy (muchos tanglos in there) and there are some funny matted bits on my hind legs that no one is going to get near if I have anything to do with it.
She told me not to be a silly donkey and made my wear my headcollar and stand still - Dad was the other side of the door holding the rope (sensible out of reach of giraffe legs) while mum combed and teezed my long long coat. She said her poor old wrists aren't up to all this grooming so next time she is going to send me to a salon and they can have a go at a cut and blow dry. Maybe I will have a caffe latte and croissant at the same time - I didn't get one today, so I didn't leave a tip.
I still have tuggy bits on my fore head - another area you are NOT going to get anywhere near with a comb - but all in all I am a bit of a more fluffy and sleek donkey. I got that funny fly rug put on again (though it had been freshly laundered and didn't smell quite so much of donkey pee as I had lain down with it on and come up not smelling of roses but something slightly more eau de donk.....Mum complains that doing my laundry is not terribly good for her washing machine and her clothes sometimes come out smelling a bit suspect after my laundry has been done.
Simple answer, I feel I should have my own washing machine, a commercial size one so all my winter rugs can be laundered and pressed, and re-proofed etc. I will send instructions to room service immediately.
They Try to Kill Me
I was given funny food this morning, not had it before. It tasted very nice, so being a naughty donkey, I ate is much too fast and choked on it.
I stood there, spluttering, panicking - maybe the folks from the fat farm had tracked me down as they don't like donkeys to escape their clutches and they had put something in the food to finish me off - if plutonium can get into food in hotels in London then who knows what they could have thought of for a poor Vodka donkey.
Mum rolled her eyes and muttered something about more vets' bills - being a skinflint, she decided to take action herself. She got this funny plastic thing and squirted lots of water into my mouth to make me swallow - as she said, quite why I couldn't just have a drink and clear my throat was beyond her. After a dozen or so of these funny squirty things that made me cough and splutter even more - I am sure she intended to drown me - suddenly it was gone and I could breathe again.
After all that, I was off, out to the field, there was no way I was going to be fooled by that funny food again....
Funnily enough I had it again for my dinner.....
I stood there, spluttering, panicking - maybe the folks from the fat farm had tracked me down as they don't like donkeys to escape their clutches and they had put something in the food to finish me off - if plutonium can get into food in hotels in London then who knows what they could have thought of for a poor Vodka donkey.
Mum rolled her eyes and muttered something about more vets' bills - being a skinflint, she decided to take action herself. She got this funny plastic thing and squirted lots of water into my mouth to make me swallow - as she said, quite why I couldn't just have a drink and clear my throat was beyond her. After a dozen or so of these funny squirty things that made me cough and splutter even more - I am sure she intended to drown me - suddenly it was gone and I could breathe again.
After all that, I was off, out to the field, there was no way I was going to be fooled by that funny food again....
Funnily enough I had it again for my dinner.....
Wednesday 11 June 2008
Belle is Saved
We have been on tenterhooks - the old mare at the fat farm, my friend Belle, was given the special spangled banner which said she was saved, but sadly when the good lorry came for her, she was too ill to travel to safety in the UK. Not too ill to travel to Italy for slaughter in the bad lorry but too weak to come here.
I was so disappointed, it was so so cruel for her to get her hopes up and then, tragedy. A real kick in the teeth (bet she has had a few of those in her time).
But the good news is that money was found to pay for her Belle Freedom Banner - and she has found a home in France where she can enjoy the rest of her life. Even better news, her daughter Romana was also given the special banner and has been saved too - she is now here as well, learning how to behave nicely and trust people again.
I am delighted, I have run up and down, shouted my head off and yelled to everyone who wants to listen BELLE IS SAFE. It has quite made my day as I have fretted about her since I left her behind.
Sadly there are more donkeys at the fat farm - mum says one is the image of Aimee - but three donkeys here are enough, although she would no doubt find space for one if she had to - I know she is a soft touch.
I was so disappointed, it was so so cruel for her to get her hopes up and then, tragedy. A real kick in the teeth (bet she has had a few of those in her time).
But the good news is that money was found to pay for her Belle Freedom Banner - and she has found a home in France where she can enjoy the rest of her life. Even better news, her daughter Romana was also given the special banner and has been saved too - she is now here as well, learning how to behave nicely and trust people again.
I am delighted, I have run up and down, shouted my head off and yelled to everyone who wants to listen BELLE IS SAFE. It has quite made my day as I have fretted about her since I left her behind.
Sadly there are more donkeys at the fat farm - mum says one is the image of Aimee - but three donkeys here are enough, although she would no doubt find space for one if she had to - I know she is a soft touch.
Brioche - Non Merci
The two Scottish donkeys need to take medicine (no, not for the French donkey pox I gave to them but they have been bitten the the notorious Scottish midgie and poor old Ferguson had an allergic reaction to cream put on to soothe those horrible midgie bites - he now looks like the Elephant man).
To encourage the swallowing of this medicine, it was skillfully placed by she who claims she is mum on pieces of brioche - all designed to confuse and confound innocent donkeys into eating this foul tasting liquid. It seems to work, as they have eaten them all.
Of course, I should be familiar with brioche, given my foreign French background, but I feign total fear and refuse to eat it. Seriously, I sniff it, prod it, stand on it but eat it I will not. Then, just as I was overcoming my terrible fear of this foreign food, Ferguson steals it and snaffles the lot.
Mum says serves me right - never leave a brioche unattended is all I can say.
To encourage the swallowing of this medicine, it was skillfully placed by she who claims she is mum on pieces of brioche - all designed to confuse and confound innocent donkeys into eating this foul tasting liquid. It seems to work, as they have eaten them all.
Of course, I should be familiar with brioche, given my foreign French background, but I feign total fear and refuse to eat it. Seriously, I sniff it, prod it, stand on it but eat it I will not. Then, just as I was overcoming my terrible fear of this foreign food, Ferguson steals it and snaffles the lot.
Mum says serves me right - never leave a brioche unattended is all I can say.
Friday 6 June 2008
Vodka Donkey Bar
I am now a famous donkey.
Mum says don't get too big headed as it is only due to you being called Vodka - nonsense, people appreciate a quality donkey never mind the name.
Inventive Leisure, a company which owns a large number of Vodka Bars (can I visit please) has sent me some money to help save other donkeys who are in trouble - my mum gave this money to her friend Helen at Scottish Borders Donkey Sanctuary, and as a result, Charlotte, a 20 year old donkey, and Kofi, a young toffee coloured donkey, are now in Melrose and enjoying their freedom. My money helped pay for a bit of their special banners which said they were saved.
I am so pleased that not only did I help my best friend Cazaux - my ex friend given what he said about my fly protection suit (you just don't want to know how horrible he was about that) - but these two other donkeys are now safe and sound, with a bit of help from the special Vodka Donkey.
I am looking forward to visiting the nearest Revolution Vodka Bar where I hope they have named a special pink cocktail in honour of this very special donkey - I am just hoping that when I have my Vodka Donkey Open Day I will be able to raise more money to save another little donkey - there is such a sweet sweet coloured one on the fat farm at the moment, mum says he is very very like grumpy old Aimee donkey. But she can't afford to do anything herself, other than offer him temporary residence.
Oh well, I shall plot how I can save him as well.
Mum says don't get too big headed as it is only due to you being called Vodka - nonsense, people appreciate a quality donkey never mind the name.
Inventive Leisure, a company which owns a large number of Vodka Bars (can I visit please) has sent me some money to help save other donkeys who are in trouble - my mum gave this money to her friend Helen at Scottish Borders Donkey Sanctuary, and as a result, Charlotte, a 20 year old donkey, and Kofi, a young toffee coloured donkey, are now in Melrose and enjoying their freedom. My money helped pay for a bit of their special banners which said they were saved.
I am so pleased that not only did I help my best friend Cazaux - my ex friend given what he said about my fly protection suit (you just don't want to know how horrible he was about that) - but these two other donkeys are now safe and sound, with a bit of help from the special Vodka Donkey.
I am looking forward to visiting the nearest Revolution Vodka Bar where I hope they have named a special pink cocktail in honour of this very special donkey - I am just hoping that when I have my Vodka Donkey Open Day I will be able to raise more money to save another little donkey - there is such a sweet sweet coloured one on the fat farm at the moment, mum says he is very very like grumpy old Aimee donkey. But she can't afford to do anything herself, other than offer him temporary residence.
Oh well, I shall plot how I can save him as well.
Thursday 5 June 2008
Vodka Donkey Fashion Victim
This is just such a bad look for me - I am so disappointed that Yves Saint Laurent has popped his clogs as I was always hopeful that a special creation for a special donkey might wing my way - certainly this could be improved on.......
Also more to the point it is second hand rose - passed down from Aimee as it doesn't fit her very well.
She is in HUGE trouble, SHE got a brand new rug, and has managed to rip it to shreds today - first day she wore it.....I am avoiding mum, she just mutters about £45 down the drain......b....y donkey......I am sure she isn't talking about me. I am perfect.
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