Saffy Super Cat is Dead

Little Saffy left us today, everyone is in pieces.

The elderly British Blue had to be pts this morning, as she had gone off her food (mental note keep eating Vodka), and a large growth in her tummy was discovered.

She was taken to the vets yesterday and had tests, and given some painkillers and other stuff to see if it would help her, and she was perky last night, so they tell me as I am not allowed in the house to watch tv at night - why not I may ask?

Anyway this morning she was poorly again and she was operated on to try to remove the growth but sadly it was too big and she has the beginnings of peritonitis, which mum says is something you don't want to have, so it was the final curtain for the wonderful Saffy.

Mum says she was the bravest, feistiest cat in the world, who ruled the household with an iron paw. Everyone is very very upset and there is an empty basket in the kitchen.

Winter Wonder Land

It has been very snowy here, so we had a white Christmas and I did my best braying along with Bing Crosby - personally I think I have a better tone to my voice and certainly more hair....

I have had my special xmas meal with stout and carrots and apples - quite why I don't get this every day is a mystery but mum says I must be Drink Aware - well I would be aware of the nice taste of Mackeson as it adds flavour to that miserable sugar beet stuff she says I must eat for fibre, with a feeble topping of pony mix on top. Honestly, it is a bit frugal.

However, I have grown at least another 3-6 inches since June - the wonderful nice colourful rugs mum bought for me for this winter, and which fitted me perfectly in June when I did a twirl in them before they were put away to 'keep for good' - well they don't fit me now. My nice donkey ass is exposed - I have grown another 3 inches along my back and I show a bit of bottom and tail.....mum is muttering about the fact that three brand new rugs which are 5ft now need tob e 5'3....she says I will just have to make do as she isn't buying me any more.

At Christmas time, and this is my second Christmas here, I always reflect on how lucky I am - I should, by rights, not be alive, as I was headed for the abattoir. Instead here I am, a fit, healthy happy large donkey who just can't believe how fortunate I was to be picked out and brought to safety. Every day is a bonus for me.

As I stand in the snow, watching the robins and all the other birds eat the chickens' feed, and also the food at their feeding stations (mum says she spends almsot as much feeding wild birds as she does me, I knew it, I am being rationed...), I can only say thank you Revolution Vodka Bars for putting up the money to buy me and save my life. I think of all my friends who didn't make it, who are long gone, Elizabeth, Lak Un and her baby foal, all the others who didn't even have names. I got a chance and they didn't.

As the year ends, it has been a pretty dreadful year for horses - it's been bad for people who with credit crunches (is this a new horse cereal I haven't tried yet?) - but it has been really really bad for horses ponies and donkeys, as so many have hit hard times. Mum says that if I had been unlucky enough to be at the fat farm this year, I probably would not have been saved, as it has been so so much harder to raise money as everyone is feeling the pinch, and there are so many more horses and donkeys in need. So she says that I was doubly lucky in that my date with fate came at just the right time, when there was a way out for me.

Every night, as I got to bed in my stripey jim jams (also 3 inches too short), I say a little prayer for all the horses and donkeys out there who are in bad places, cold, tired, hungry, destined to die. I wish I was Vodka Superdonkey and could wave a wand and make it a happy time for you, but as I can't all I can do is say I'm sorry.

So Near, But So Gone

For months and months, we have struggled to raise the money to save this plain little mare and her plain little colt foal.

We have made and sold xmas cards, done collections, sold things on Ebay, you name it, mum and a number of other like minded people have raided their piggy banks and found pennies to add to the pile.

Finally the large sum of £1000 was reached and we could say to the farmer at the fat farm, Lak Un, the little lady, can be home in time for Christmas.

Sadly, she is gone. They have so many anonymous horses there and she was only little and nothing special, but they looked and she wasn't there. So she and her baby won't be having that wonderful special Christmas in freedom and in safety but are both probably dead. More than likely they went to the butchers' fairs, or on the lorry to Italy. They are probably hanging up for sale now.

Mum is very very upset. While there are lots of other mums and their babies waiting to be saved, and one will benefit from Lak Un's demise, the reason she was chosen was that she was so hopeless, nothing much to recommend her, not a looker, nothing going for her. Which is why she touched your heart.

Mum says I should remember that when I was on the site for sale, I looked like a little scrap of fur and it was only my face, that sad young little confused face that touched her heart and said save me please. So she did.

It was two years ago in December that she first saw me, and it took her till March to get all the money together to save me and my friend Cazaux, what if I had been like Lak Un, gone.

At times like this, I realise just what a very lucky donkey I am.

Vodka Horse & Pony Magazine Charity Donkey of the Year

Vodka, our little princess, was voted by readers of Horse and Pony Magazine as their charity donkey of the year. Up against fierce opposition - including her stable companion Aimee - Vodka beat off all contestants and is thrilled to be the winner. She promises to promote world peace and all the usual stuff, and awaits her crown and sash! She hopes there might also be a throne but we have explained to her that this might not be possible.

Her mum hopes that she can manage to post the entire article but so far the technology involved is beyond her, so here are some of the individual pictures.

Little Donkey Blown Up - How Can People Do This?

I am in shock, mum has told me what has happened to a little donkey in Afghanistan - now that is somewhere I do not want to go on holiday if this is how they treat my friends.


"The Afghan army platoon has received some information that the insurgents were going to try to strap an improvised explosive device to a donkey and send it towards camp. Donkeys do not have the reputation of being the most pliant animal so it was treated with some scepticism at first.

Then in the afternoon the gate guard realised that there was something suspicious going on. A group had just let go of a donkey a short way from camp and hurried off. He tried to divert the animal with flares and other warnings. Obstinacy not being the best quality in that situation, the beast of burden eventually had to be stopped by a rifle shot.

The team went out and established there was something very suspicious under the bundle of hay carried by the donkey. Eventually one brave A&A warrior set fire to the hay with a flare from a distance and 30 seconds later there was a considerable explosion.

No one was hurt, swift appropriate actoin had saved them from an unusual attack but it is impossible to report a donkey IED up the chain of commant without a rye small at the ridiculousness of it or a feeling that the world is slightly off its axis."

The world has gone totally bonkers using an innocent donkey as a bomb, I am crying in my cornflakes. This just confirms that I am one of the luckiest donkeys in the world, mum says no one is getting near me with TNT.

It's Xmas Card Time

As a very very busy and innovative donkey, I am selling Xmas Cards this year - being generous I have let Aimee have the front page slot, but if you want any cards, for your discerning friends, they are printed up on nice gold glitter paper and cost £0.70p each - all proceeds and I mean ALL going to help save another donkey from slaughter.

This is how beautiful Aimee is on the card - get in fast and buy up our stock! I am on the back of the card looking suitably festive.

Bon Voyage and Send Me a Postcard

Mum says that these poor little fellows are being loaded onto the bad lorries, the ones that take them to either Italy (for the salami trade) or to a local killing place.

I wish I could be there to warn them, don't go in, jump the fence, run like stink. But I'm not, so they don't. If only I was Vodka Superdonkey I would swoop down there with my cloak flapping and scoop them all up and keep them safe. But I am only a very young but large brown French donkey who, while clever and smart, can't solve all the bad things that happen in the world. I am leaving that to Mr Obama - maybe he could do a flying visit to the butchers fairs and declare them unconstitutional or something. Equines don't like this idea of special rendition, we would prefer to stay at home please.

As an innocent young donkey, if I'd been there, would I have known that jumping ship now was a very good idea. Tunnel while you can, become a puissance donkey capable of jumping any fence and literally running for my life. Thankfully, though this was my destiny, I dodged it.

If fate hadn't intervened and given me that huge lucky break, what would I have done, gone on the lorry or had a tantrum. I suspect, that given how cowed, submissive and frightened I was, I would have gone one. I guess the brave Cazaux, my erstwhile companion, might have put up a bit of a fight, but being a gentleman, if I'd gone in I'm sure he would have too, just to look after me. I wouldn't have known any better. And anyway I wouldn't have been given much choice, as if you don't go, they beat you. So eventually you follow the others. And that's it, trapped.

This is the last time you will see the sky, taste grass, have a drink of water, enjoy a stretch, have a snooze. However long your journey, you probably won't be fed, or given any rest or water, you will just trundle on all through France, heading south to the barbaric country that is Italy.

Mum says it's a shame that such a cultured nation can have such peculiar habits, which extend to killing foals, killing pregnant mares. At least the French draw the line at that, you have to have the baby before they kill you.

The last thing you see at the market is sticks waving, folks shouting, and that's pretty much what you are going to see at the end of your final journey.

Bon voyage.

Death's Waiting Room for Horses

This is death row, this is the poor little meat horses who have been sold to the butcher - this could have been Vodka donkey, been weighed, price paid for me, ready to go on the lorry on my final journey.

Mum says it is so painful to see these pictures, all the poor innocent young horses, all dead now, hanging up in a Boucherie Chevaline by now. Most of them never had names, never knew much kindness in their short brutish lives - and they died a pretty nasty death.

She says that whenever I am a bad donkey, I should remember these pictures and appreciate what a lucky girl I am. This was my destiny and I evaded it.

I am concerned that it may still be lurking behind a bush, waiting to catch up with me, but mum says destiny doesn't tend to work that way. It wasn't my destiny to go for the chop, or be made into chops.

I am so relieved, it makes me very ashamed that this morning I attacked Ferguson, tried to pull his rug off, hung from his neck, bit his short stumpy legs, then chased him around in circles - he would never admit it but he loves it really. When he has had enough he boots me fair and square and I give up.

These poor little ponies won't get to play any more. I shall have to think of ways to save some of them.

The Poor Mother Horses And Their Babies

Mum says when she looks at this picture of the mares and foals at the butchers sale, she can't stop crying.

The total waste of breeding a nice little foal, and then to send the foal and its mum to be killed - and the anguish of the little mare, trying to protect her baby, but she can't.

She will be driven onto a lorry with all the other horses, all in together, with her baby, with all these strange horses she doesn't know. They may attack her, or her baby and there is nothing she can do about it.

The last thing she will see is either her baby being killed right in front of her, or she will be killed first if she tries to fight to protect it too much.

Mum says that countries in Europe were at the heart of civilisation centuries ago, but that they seem to be slipping back to the dark ages in terms of their cruelty and callousness to gentle horses.

Have to say I agree with her totally, and I am only an ass.

The Poor Baby Horses

Mum has showed me this picture of the baby horses, at the butchers' fair in October, all penned up,ready to go to their deaths.

They look nice little foalies, charming, sweet, nice natured - probably scared out of their minds in this strange place, with all the noise, people prodding and poking them (to see how heavy they are), sticks waving to make them move.

The sad thing is, these little chunky babies make exactly the sort of riding ponies that people want, 14-15 hands high, built to carry weight, suitable for a child or adult, calm temperament, easy to learn, just what the doctor ordered. But they won't get the chance to show how they could have won rosettes, got their clever horse diploma. They are considered worthless, other than for the value of the meat on their bones.

As they are all unused to people, and unhandled, it makes it all the more scary for them. What they don't know is that they have very little time left to live, they are going either to the local butcher, or off on a ride to Italy.

Either way, it isn't a good future. However brief.

My Second Anniversary

In October 2007, I arrived in France. I didn't know it at the time but this is a very very dangerous time to be in France if you are an equine, or even a donk.

This is the time that all the lazy people who don't want to pay for their horses over winter, having used them all summer, throw them away. Riding schools, tourist attractions, carriage horses from the major tourist cities, petting zoos, petting farms, anywhere a horse can be useful, and has done a summer's work, well this is the thanks they get.

They get sent for slaughter. There are big markets, where thousands of horses ponies and donkeys are penned up, and the butcher comes round and buys them.

Being an innocent donkey, I had no idea that the timing of my arrival in France could be so tragic. Mum says she has now seen some pictures of these fairs, and it breaks here heart to think of me there, all alone, or with my mum, or maybe with my old mate Cazaux. Bless his little cotton socks.

Like me, he was lucky. We didn't go to the butchers fairs, but we did have a pretty miserable winter, out in the fields, fighting for food, we got cold and thin, we got lice, we got long feet. But we didn't die. So we were lucky.

I cannot stop crying when I see all these poor creatures just waiting to go on the death lorries. I know that they haven't been saved, as the ones in these pictures are now dead. A few might have been bought by kind people who wanted to save them, but there just aren't enough of these people around.

Caladeux and Eclipse

Aimee had a hoof in saving the lives of this little mare and her baby, Eclipse.

Poor Caladeux has not been handled, and is very shy, not had much of a life so far, just loads of babies. Her little filly, Eclipse, is a beautiful young lady and hopefully will learn that people are nice to her. Cally hasn't had much experience of them being nice, so she is very timid and wary.

I am so proud of Aimee, even though it galls me to say so. The charity work she does, and the generosity of local people who give her money, have given this little pair a new life and a future.

2009 has been a dire year for horses, home and away. It has been a very dangerous year to be an equine.

Lily - Saved by Aimee

You may remember the sad little chestnut filly that Aimee, our star fundraising donkey, helped to escape from the fat farm.

Well Lily is doing so so well, much happier. Here is a picture of her when she first arrived, you can compare the two pictures.....

Saffy Has Surgery Again

Poor old Saffy cat has been in the wars again. She has a big lump removed from her face, a few months back, and some nasty lumps appeared in her neck.

Mum is very worried, thinks it isn't very good news, but the lumps have been removed and everyone hopes that Saffy makes a full recovery. Here she is sleeping it off after her operation.

Vodka Is Photographed

I have been snapped, some strange people came to do what they call a photo shoot - the word shoot alarmed me......I come from a place where shooting is a real life hazard, i.e. they shoot horses, ponies and innocent donkeys.....

I was so relieved that it was just with a camera with funny lens thing and moved - Spencer the sheep had a go at eating it....

Naturally things didn't go smoothly. Mum kept us in and spent about one whole hour coming and grooming me. I had every knot untangled, and had my ear fluff trimmed, everything done. Aimee and Ferguson also were groomed. I had my rug put on and of course what did I do, I rolled....there was a lot of muttering about how I was even worse than I had been before she started.

She said I was a very very bad donkey and that she was now going to leave me to ponder my wrong doings and come back about 10 minutes before the camera to pretty me up again....

So when the camera and crew arrived, I was photographed in the stable with the two scottish stumpies. Then it was decided some action shots outdoors were needed, so they went out to do a recce. My chance. I rolled for all I was worth!

One side of me, nice and clean, the other side, totally plastered with shavings. When everyone came back, and saw the state of me, mum looked thunderous. They even took pictures of my bad side.

I then had this funny tinsel stuff put on me, and we did some action shots of me in my big field, the scottish stumpies kept trying to get in on the act - after all Aimee was in the same competition BUT DIDN'T WIN. I let her join in as she has been so depressed about coming last....poor old donkey, class will out.

So we are crossing hooves and waiting to see if I look perfectly stunning - I know I will, it's the problem of being let down by others in the pictures.

A Visit to the Two Little Frenchies

Mum and Dad have been to see Caladeux and her baby filly foal, Eclipse, commonly known as Elly.

Mum said that Cally is even prettier in real life, but shy, and the little foalie person has the longest legs in the world and is quite delightful. I am surprised she did not smuggle them back in the car with them.

Cally is a bit overwhelmed, new place, languages to learn, plus she has to chill out as now she doesn't have to worry about anything. A charity has taken her on for the rest of her life, so as soon as Elly is weaned, Cally will either retire completely or perhaps find a new career as a riding pony if she feels she wants to pursue professional development in this way.

She is one of the last of the lucky french ones as the farm she came from all the horses will be going for slaughter very soon, as they don't want to run it any more. From my point of view, this is excellent news, as they won't be having any more horses, but for the horses,donkeys and foals there it's the worst of news, as unless some money is found for them very quickly, they have no chance whatsoever.

I am very very upset about this - some of them are just 12-15 months old, some are this year's foallies with their mums, still drinking her milk, it is awful. I am powerless to do anything for them and it makes me so so sad that I can't help them.

A new member of the family

One of the battery hens has fulfilled her life's ambition, she has hatched out a chick. Of course she chose a pretty inconvenient time to do it, one of those Saturdays that Aimee was off fund raising and suddenly kitten pens were put up, mother and baby inserted into pen, chicken pellets put in the magimix and made into crumbs.

Just what you need when you are busy and trying to get Aimee donkey clean, loaded and out there strutting her stuff.

Mum says that chick is now getting quite big and is convinced it will of course be a cockerel given she already have 4 of these useless things already. She's not even convinced that the hen that thinks it is the mum is actually the mum. She is a typical red/brown battery hen, but the chick is black with silver legs, which is suspiciously like the cochin hens she has, and the daddy has to be the cuckoo speckled maran cross.....so she thinks the mum has to be the cochin but for whatever reason the little battery girl has claimed it as her own.

She is totally made up about it. In the daytime, she and the baby go into Molly's stable and run around. She has been teaching it how to scratch and dig, and mum says she isn't quite as ferocious as she was on day one, when she would have killed you if you tried to go near her baby.

I am pleased for her, it must be sad to lay all those eggs with no result! She is a very very proud mum and at night time you can see her, sitting down to sleep, with the little head of the baby sticking out from under her feathers. Aw. I want one of those too.

We Have Been House Sat

They cleared off and left us for a few days.....we were inspected by this lady called Evonne who was left to deal with us!

Well of course, Rosie played up, managed to lose her muzzle. The rest of us however got a Gold Star for being talented well behaved donkeys who did exactly what mum said we would do.....

We were pleased to see her back, particularly as they were late....it was almost dark....something about a 3 hour boat trip on Lake Windermere. I ask you, is that more important than getting a donkey's dinner and putting them to bed. I was very very hurt and tried to sulk, but couldn't keep it out....

Have to say the place was much tidier and cleaner when they were away.....mum says she is ashamed that the house looked tidier and cleaner as well.....

Aimee Saves Another Little Life

That donkey really does do it - any collection, another little one safe and sound.

Beautiful little chestnut filly, only 3 years old, far too young to die.

I like the look of her, we are going to be pen pals I hope. Vodka donkey has to admit that Aimee really does have the fund raising gene, or genie in her case.

Aimee Saves Lives

Aimee, bless her little cotton socks, did her fund raising at the weekend and people just loved her - why I don't know. She is an annoying little spotted thing, in my esteemed opinion, but she seems to sway hearts and get the pennies going into her tin.

She raised £700! What an amazing little donkey. There was so much stress for her, as a little mare and her baby - Caladeux and her foal Eclipse - were waiting for another £500 to save their lives so no pressure Aimee, get the money or they get the bullet.....Aimee says if it had been for me, Vodka donkey, she would have downed tools and refused to be charming, but as it was for an amazingly sweet little pony and her filly foal, she fluttered her long eyelashes, walked the walk and talked the talk, so to bray.

What a clever donkey she is, even I have to admit it. These two will be safe and sound soon!

Pivione Tibere and Now Ulysses

As a compassionate Vodka donkey, I was very very upset that these three little donkeys were going for the unkindest cut, i.e. the chop.

I did my best, got Aimee galvanised into fund raising and the excellent news is that Pivione, a lovely little grey girl donkey - hey we could have been pen pals and good friends you know - her son Tibere and a little one year old friend, Ulysses, are all safe at Sussex Horse Rescue Trust.

Me, I am thrilled, while it would be great to meet them and rub noses and do all the usual hi how are you stuff, you can say hello to my other french friends in Sussex, like Kevin, Padraig etc. They are nice donkeys too, maybe you could all make a video and send it to me.

For the moment, here are a few shots of the lovely trio.

They look so relaxed already.

August Has to be better than July

July was all doom and gloom, horses getting killed, nothing happening.

I thought that August would be better, we might be into bbq season as promised, but no, mud mud mud, rain rain rain.

Only good thing is at least I am coming into my stable again at night.....

Some good comes out of bad weather.

Life Can Be So Cruel

I am distraught, I have just heard that one of my friends from France, little Lunar, has been killed - this brings all the worries back to me, I thought I was safe but is it going to happen to me?

Little Lunar was innocently grazing in her field, when the electricity pylon dropped a cable and killed her. Burnt to toast. She was the little brown one on the left of the picture with the sweet innocent face, full of hope, full of love, happy to be here. What a dreadful waste.

Mum is very upset at the thought of such a dreadful death for Lunar, especially as she had come all the way to the UK, been much loved, and irony of all irony, was due to move at the weekend to a new home, where she was going to be a driving pony and have a proper career. She was going to a forever home with another pony as company, and to learn new skills and be a useful citizen.

How cruel is that?

I am not enjoying July at all, it is all death, doom and gloom. Apart from me beating Aimee, there isn't much to shout about - it rained lots and lots today, mum says the angels are crying for Lunar - I just wish they could send her back to where she was loved.

Why Are These Horses Going to Die - 2

Pair of beautiful young mares, up to weight, why on earth are they so worthless that all they are fit for is going for slaughter?

With a bit of training they could both be excellent riding horses or trained to drive - what a total waste. Vodka donkey is so upset that these quality horses are unwanted and going for the chop. Makes her realise even more what a lucky girl she is.

Why Are These Horse Going to Die - 1

I can't believe that this beautiful stallion is on the fat farm and going for slaughter. What a lovey boy he is - you could see him working, he is such a beautiful fellow.

I am crossing everything that someone somewhere wants to buy him and save his life.

Goodbye Little Jessica

Mum was crying today, she had just found out that her friends, Liz and John, had just lost Jessica their lovely tabby cat.

Mum used to have a tabby Jessica as well. She was a lovely lanky cat, waspish to other cats, but very very loving to people. She had come to live with mum when Jessica's mum went overseas and didn't know what to do with her - well naturally Jessica was made welcome (she has even more cats than she has donkeys) and had a very happy few years living with the other cats. Mum says she loved Jessica very much and that Jessica returned all the love and was an extremely gentle and sensitive cat who could tune into how you were feeling and give you a little extra hug if you were feeling down.

Jessica died suddenly and very dramatically. In the middle of the night she developed breathing problems, and Mum and Dad at 2am had to drive to the vets to get emergency treatment for her. She lay on mum's lap in the car, unable to breath, and choked to death, dying about 5 minutes from the vets. Her larynx had closed over and she couldn't breath. Mum still doesn't know what caused it, some allergic reaction but to what.

Mum says she has never witnessed such a dreadful death and never wants to, the fear and terror of poor Jessica as she fought for her life, all in vain. She says she has had many a cat make a final visit to the vet, but never seen one die in such panic and pain and never wants to again.

But there is a twist to the tail, so to speak.

Jessica's previous mum was working in Hong Kong and mum was trying frantically to get in touch with her to tell her that Jessica had died. She finally tracked her down and told her that she had died, but that we didn't know why. Her sister is one of these people who sometimes 'sees things' - no she isn't daft, she is just sensitive and sometimes things happen that can't be explain. She was on the ferry crossing the harbour at Hong Kong, on her own, hadn't spoken to her sister all day, didn't know that Jessica was dead or even ill, and then she saw Jessica, galloping along a long hallway. Jessica spoke to her and said that she was ok, it had been very sudden and frightening but she was ok now, and to tell mum not to worry. When she got home she told her sister all this, and she told her that Jessica had died that day.

Cynics out there might say this is all a joke, but no, she was able to describe our hallway at home perfectly, and she didn't know that Jessica was dead, or that Jessica used to love to gallop up and down it at great speed, doing wheelies. She had never been to the house, in fact she had never met Jessica only seen a photo of her, yet she was able to describe in detail the hallway, and Jessica running along it.

Mum says she would like to think that Jessica came back home, just one final time, to say goodbye to her home and her friends. She hopes that both Jessica cats are now running around in heaven together and playing, all their cares behind them.

Me, I don't know, I just think there are some things that just can't be explained logically.

After all, why was I, Vodka donkey, saved from death, when there are so many other equally deserving donkeys who don't get that chance? I think I had a guardian angel looking after me. Otherwise why me? Why not one of the others.

All I know is that I am truly grateful for the new life I have been given and I promise to live it to the full and not complain too much (well just a bit) and be a very good girl (have to say that but of course you know that I may be telling the odd little fib).

What Has Happened To The Weather

I really am confused, it is supposed to be summer now, torrential rain, mud in the fields, mud inside my field shelter. What on earth is going on here?

Mum had actually laundered all my winter rugs, they had been washed and dried and carefully folded and put away on the rack that says Rugs for Vodka - actually I have two racks as I have so many rugs now - and now they have all had to be dragged out again to keep me warm and dry.

I've had it - I am booking a flight from Prestwick and I am off clubbing in Ibiza. It will be Ministry of Sound Chilled Vodka for me now, I can see me swaying on the beach, cocktail in hand - Aimee has unkindly pointed out to me that if I turn up in Spain they may expect me to do some work, carting stuff. Oh she is so bitter and twisted that SHE didn't win the poll and I did.

Mum says she will be engaging a therapist for Aimee to investigate why she didn't win and provide her with coping mechanisms so that she will not be afraid of failure in the future. Me, I just chuckle malevolently.....Ferguson, being sensible, is staying well out of it.

Goodbye Little Girls

It's been a bad month. What with the credit crunch and everything, more of the horses on the meat farm are going for meat.

First of all it was Elizabeth, so sad as someone actually wanted to help her but too late.

Then Clocue and Margo have both gone from the farm, so we know they are no longer with us.

Both youngish mares, 10 years old, probably not very handled, never going to be the easiest to find a sanctuary for, but still sad, two little lives lost.

I hope it was quick for you. And that you didn't suffer.

But I don't really believe that.

Vodka is very sad, although she didn't know them, she has been told all about them and says it makes her success all so trivial now. She makes me feel guilty too as I could have done more for them, tried to help them.

Vodka Horse & Pony Charity Donkey of the Year Poll

Mum tells me that my charm, beauty and general donkey perfection has been recognised far and wide and that I am the proud winner of the Horse and Pony Poll for Charity Donkey of the Year. Photographers, cameras and tape recorders are expected next month to record me for posterity.

So first of all may I thank all of you who voted for me - you have shown exquisite taste - and for those of you who voted for the spotty scottish stumpy, Aimee, well better luck next time. Aimee is not talking to me for some reason. Hard to see why but hey everyone hates a bad loser.

I have never had to worry about that, as it is clear to me that I am a winner. A star donkey. From the minute I stepped down the ramp in Scotland, my life changed forever in fact it's hard for me to remember all those bad times, how cold and skinny I was and how frightened. It's a bit like a bad dream, I'm sure it happened but I just don't want to go back there, thank you.

To all my fans, thank you. Mum says I must not become more big headed than I already am, or I won't get in the field shelter, my head will be too big - it is quite a narrow doorway but I think I can puff up with pride just a little.

I have travelled a long distance in miles to come to my new home, but the distance in other ways has been just as great. I think of my friends, like little Elizabeth, who didn't get the chance to become a useful equine citizen and have a home where people appreciate them. I am a very lucky donkey.

I intend to be a fine ambassador, and will work for world peace, saving the planet, and all the other things you are supposed to do - but mainly I intend to have a happy life and never let Aimee forget that she DIDN'T WIN!

R.I.P. Elizabeth

You were only a 5 year old little mare, you looked a bit skitty, a bit young, probably a bit wild.

We all prayed that someone would want you and say let's save Elizabeth. Came too late for you honey. You went for live export and are now dead.

We heard about it today. That you were gone. That it was too late. A poor young frightened semi wild unhandled girl hurtling to her death. With not a friendly face a kind word, or someone she knew to calm her.

Would like to think you didn't suffer, you weren't afraid, you didn't panic, they didn't hurt you. But I don't believe in fairy tales.

Hats Off for Aimee - Possible Charity Donkey of the Year

This clever little donkey - ok I was paid to say this - has been out there pounding the streets doing her fund raising for other less fortunate donkeys. Me, well while I am still in the lead in the charity donkey of the year competition (lead is slipping away, please vote for me on the Horse and Pony Website), I am gettng ready for my photoshoot if I win. So I am exercising gently, working out which is my best profile etc.

Aimee on the other hoof has raised £460 for the Brooke Hospital (hip hip hooray Aimee), £250 for Animal Refuge Carlisle and £350 for Animal Care in Egypt - so all these other horses ponies and donkeys are going to be so glad that little short ass is working her little short ass bottom off for them.

She gets so tired, comes home and lies down, mum says it is mainly due to the surfeit of carrots, polomints, apples etc which have passed down Aimee neck! She is so full she can hardly stand up.

So while of course there is no chance she is going to win charity donkey of the year - a measly 4% of the vote compared to my (slipping) 23%, though it pains me I do have to do she does a bit more for charity than I do.

But I do have many charitable thoughts - just not many about Aimee....

We are the Klu Klux Klanners

The things we get dressed up in....it is very midgy weather at the moment so mum has rigged us up in this ridiculous fancy dress - ok it keeps the dratted midges at bay but what does it do for your stret cred?

I mean we can hardly turn up for London Fashion Week looking like this.....as mum says all we need is our Fiery Cross and we are all set for a meeting....

We are still waiting

Aimee and I are very very worried donkeys, will either of us win this charity donkey competition or are we going to be pipped at the post. Mum is hoping that I will, particulary as she says she has 'reserved' a little boy donkey and is trying to get his mum to safety and it would be wonderful if i could win something, get some publicity and maybe some donations to help fund him.... here he is - isn't he lovely....

Molly Goes for Precision.......

Mum got a shock recently when she came to give us our breakfast.....she went into feed the daft donut Molly, the retired for years coloured cob who hasn't a brain cell worth counting...Anyway mum was just about to tip Molly's breakfast into her manger when she noticed that it was swimming.....Molly had managed to piddle in it.

Given it is hanging from the wall, and not very large, quite how she managed to precision pee into the manger is a mystery! Given her long bushy tail and the height of the manger, it is a pretty amazing technical achievement!

Of course, mum couldn't put the breakfast in there and had to go and get a container, while the Mad Mare danced around wondering where her breakfast had disappeared to...then mum had the job of clearing out the manger, which is fixed to the wall, so one roll of kitchen towel later, it was all mopped up.

Some horses are totally bonkers....wouldn't catch me doing anything daft like that.

Hoorah for the Hens

The clever little cluckers don't know it, but two boxes of their eggs won a prize at the local agricultural show.

OK, we don't want them to get too big headed as there weren't many other entrants in the class, but the good little Maran hens were second, and the other little bantam won with six beautiful buff eggs.

So well done cluckers! Maybe some nice mixed corn for you for dinner.

Vote for Vodka Donkey - Horse & Pony Charity Donkey of the Year Poll

Well I knew it would finally happen, my qualities would be recognised by all and sundry - mum tells me I have been nominated for the Charity Donkey of the Year and voting is live as we speak.

The only downside is that one certain short legged spotted scottish stumpy has also been nominated for her fundraising efforts. Now I know folks are discerning so why scrape the bottom of the barrel and include her highness, the Aimee....I mean I know I have to share a stable with her but class will out...

The atmosphere in the stable is at fever pitch, particularly as I am in the lead with 18% of the vote. Now I ask you, the other 82% of you, what did you do wrong? Did you hit the wrong key and place your vote for the wrong donkey, or because I am at the bottom of the ballot, you got tired of reading and voted for someone else - Aimee is first, so maybe that argument doesn't work, as she has only 5%....hee haw...hee haw....

She had a right lip on tonight, very grumpy, muttering. Ferguson was keeping his head down, staying well out of it. Jennies, he says, who'd have them.

I can see it already, my own publicist, stylist, manicurist (no common farriers for me in future, I want to go to a nail bar). Mum says something about counting chickens and hatching....don't get this as we have chickens here and eggs are hatched so what's wrong with that.

I suppose I'd better let you see some of the opposition.....

But if you want to vote for me, here is the link

The link to vote is:

http://www.horseandpony.com/cgi-bin/view_polls.pl

Go on there and get voting!

I Break My Promise

I did say when I was finally liberated from the dark, cold, miserable field, that I would be good.

Well next morning, when breakfast came, I reverted to my old trick of I will eat everyone's breakfast. The shock of having to live out (all the bad memories of France and being cold and hungry) clearly traumatised me again, so that when I tried to eat Aimee's breakfast, and she objected, I turned round and booted her...Double barrelled her.

Neither she, nor mum, were terribly pleased with me.

Mum said I was a nasty ungrateful donkey. Oh I am ashamed...I knew I shouldn't do it...

Vodka is Abandoned

They did it, they left us.

They had to go away for the weekend. Now we are used to coming in at night for cocktails, dinner, a wee dram then bed, get our jim jams on and down we go for a bit of shut eye. None of this roughing it in a field.

We got suspicious, instead of going into the big field, we were herded into the little one with the field shelter. But we came in at night, lulled into thinking it would be ok. In some ways it was, there is lots of nice new grass there as it has been rested all winter and there was all this lovely tender green stuff just perfect for a Vodka donkey.

Next day, we went in there joyfully, thinking fine, no worries. BUT they left us there, no dinner, no room service, just the field shelter to cower in the cold....I ran up and down the field, yelling at them as I could see them there, watching tv, having a glass of wine. I shouted and shouted but no I was IGNORED.....went to bed hurt. I also managed to make sure that I had most of the field shelter and the Scottish stumpies got very very little of it. We spent a mournful night nursing our wrath to keep it warm....

Next morning, no breakfast again. As it was sunny and midgy they took off my outdoor rug and put on my fly rug, then gave me a hug and left me.

FOR THREE DAYS! They went on Saturday and didn't get back till Monday night.

When I saw the car, I screamed at mum, braying with all my heart, let me in....please....I'll be good. Finally, back in my stable, my dinner, my nightie, oh it felt good.

Parking Ecosse Hang Your Heads in Shame

Aimee got a ticket. Yes our little fundraising friend, Aimee, bless her cotton socks, was out on her fundraising to help other equines in need, this time visiting Kilmarnock.

Her Aimee mobile was parked in a car park owned by Parking Ecosse - they don't have any signs up saying no trailers, and the ground isn't marked into bays, but when Aimee came trudging wearily home, there was a ticket on the windscreen!

Mum was not pleased - you don't want to see not pleased, I tell you, it's scary. She can do grumpy old woman perfectly. Jobsworth parking person comes over and starts saying that we took up 4 spaces and had only paid for 1.....well I know that Aimee has a smart trailer, but it isn't that big....After a lot of shouting and gesticulating, mum paid for a second spot and he 'removed' the ticket. Aimee, being a very very smart girl, showed her displeasure by lifting her tail.

Jobsworth tells mum to pick it up - she says there isn't a sign about poo picking and anyone for donkeys you don't have to poo pick, unlike dogs. Normally she does when Aimee is out and about, she carries plastic bags, rubber gloves, brush, water, and usually really cleans up, but on this occasion she was extremely inclined to leave it as a mark of respect. In the end she did pick it up - jobsworth has no idea how close he was to having a very close encounter with Aimee poo... she would have you know.

So Parking Ecosse, you are a very community spirited company who penalises poor charity workers, by not making your terms and conditions explicitly clear...and not having someone on site all the time to point out what you expect motorists to do!

Aimee will be back later this year.....watch where you walk....

Vodka Donkey is Dive Bombed

They are back, those pesky swallows. They have been doing their aerial acrobatics all over the stable, above my head. They built a nest last year on the girders running around the top of the barn - there are about 4 nests in all - and one of them is right above my stable.....

They make a dreadful chit chat noise all the time, waking me up, can't even dose early in the morning once it is light as they are up before me and flying around and chittering and chattering away.

Mum says they are lovely, a protected species, and while they make a bit of mess by not being house trained....they make a mess of my lovely clean rugs.....she says that we should welcome their arrival as the beginning of spring/summer and the end of the horrible winter. I think I should have protection from them, getting me up early. I need my beauty sleep.

Vodka Rhapsody in Green

Now rug number two is rather bright.....it is a very vivid green, and I am not sure it would be my first choice.....but on the other hand, it fits me very nicely and is nice and warm, and comes down and covers my knees and keeps the Vodka tummy (which keeps getting bigger) nice and warm. Mum is complaining that one of the rugs she bought me is now TOO SMALL!

Anyway what do you think? I'll be OK on St Patrick's Day I suppose......

Vodka Donkey New Rugs

It's the time of year when winter rugs can be very 'favourably priced' and my skinflint mum has been bargain hunting to ensure that the Vodka donkey is ready for next winter. We haven't quite got rid of this winter, but there is she beavering away to equip the donkey team for the rigours of winter 2009.

As many of my clothes are hand me downs from long dead donkeys - I suppose we have to slum it a bit but really as a famous donkey, I really should be going to Saville Row and get properly measured up so that the cut will be perfect for me. Instead I have to put up with ready to wear.....

Well my first rug is a keep the shavings off my long coat rug. Mum says that she is fed up having to clean me up every morning as when I got to sleep, I get absolutely plastered with shavings, so I now have a smart checked lightweight pair of jim jams to keep my lovely long coat shavings free. Actually I think it is just laziness on her part, as I really quite enjoy being combed but there we are. Wear it I must.