My xmas present has arrived, a new stable rug so the Vodka donkey can be warm and cozy as baby it's cold outside. We have had snow, frosty stuffy, slippy stuff so I can do the scene from Bambi with the legs going everywhere, believe me I have the giraffe legs for it.
But the bad news - it doesn't FIT. I am crushed.
It is a very snazzy blue with a red trim but my bottom is hanging out of it and it is so shallow that it doesn't even cover all my tummy - mum says it may be something to do with the fact that there is more tummy now than there used to be.....
But it is a 5ft Fal rug - I already have a 5ft fal outdoor rug which fits me like a glove, I adore it as all that sticks out are my ears and I can tuck them into the neck piece if it is really cold, and a discrete knee peeps out from below the rug. It is so warm and generous and I love it. This one, same make, same size, is tight on the front, about 3 inches too short, and my lovely white tummy is uncovered. How can this be - that there is such a huge variation.
Mum is furious as it doesn't even fit Aimee which was an alternative..... so I am not a happy donkey. I had been promised a lovely rug for xmas and I am so so disappointed.
Sunday, 7 December 2008
Tuesday, 2 December 2008
I am In Chat Magazine
Mum says I am famous again - for five minutes. I am on Page 27 of the December issue of Chat Magazine - and it is a pretty fine picture of a fine funky donkey. Well they would have to show a picture of me as I am so gamin, so sophisticated, being a fine french filly. We won't say anything about mum's picture as she hates having photos taken....
It would be nice if all the people who read about me would send money to help save another donkey - there was a huge Poitou donkey at the fat farm - even taller than me this one is - and mum was muttering about wouldn't it be nice to have two giraffe donkeys roaming around....Dad put his foot down (not sure where exactly) and she has not mentioned it since. Not sure I want the competition, there is only room for one Giraffe Donkey here.
Seriously though, with Christmas approaching it really is the season to save a little donkey. Don't send cards, send money to ME and I will organise a little donkey to have a very happy New Year.
It would be nice if all the people who read about me would send money to help save another donkey - there was a huge Poitou donkey at the fat farm - even taller than me this one is - and mum was muttering about wouldn't it be nice to have two giraffe donkeys roaming around....Dad put his foot down (not sure where exactly) and she has not mentioned it since. Not sure I want the competition, there is only room for one Giraffe Donkey here.
Seriously though, with Christmas approaching it really is the season to save a little donkey. Don't send cards, send money to ME and I will organise a little donkey to have a very happy New Year.
We Have This White Stuff
And it is very cold around my ankles.
I was really annoyed, all this white stuff floating down from the sky and making my feet cold, plus to be fair I would have been happy staying indoors and eating my hay rather than going into a cold miserable field.
To make matters worse, Fat Cob Rosie being a lamintic isn't allowed out if it is frosty, so she gets left on our new walkways with some hay until it all de-frosts. Well I wasn't having any of that, I marched under the fence and stole Rosie's hay.
Mum came out to find Rosie with the sort of look on her face that says I can't believe this has happened - now she would normally KILL for food but she knows not to mess with a determined Vodka donkey. Then I enticed Ferguson to limbo under the fence with poor silly Aimee the other side of it, fretting and running up and down as she couldn't figure out how to trespass.
Mum had to give Rosie more hay and I am on last warnings about breaking fences - I have broken some of the fence sticks by scratching my bottom on them. Mum is muttering something about just wait till it's wired up....not sure what this means....are we going to have a stereo system and play Christmas Carols or something?
I was really annoyed, all this white stuff floating down from the sky and making my feet cold, plus to be fair I would have been happy staying indoors and eating my hay rather than going into a cold miserable field.
To make matters worse, Fat Cob Rosie being a lamintic isn't allowed out if it is frosty, so she gets left on our new walkways with some hay until it all de-frosts. Well I wasn't having any of that, I marched under the fence and stole Rosie's hay.
Mum came out to find Rosie with the sort of look on her face that says I can't believe this has happened - now she would normally KILL for food but she knows not to mess with a determined Vodka donkey. Then I enticed Ferguson to limbo under the fence with poor silly Aimee the other side of it, fretting and running up and down as she couldn't figure out how to trespass.
Mum had to give Rosie more hay and I am on last warnings about breaking fences - I have broken some of the fence sticks by scratching my bottom on them. Mum is muttering something about just wait till it's wired up....not sure what this means....are we going to have a stereo system and play Christmas Carols or something?
The Colour Purple
Mum thinks I have a thing about the colour purple.
When Ferguson is wearing his purple rug, I keep trying to undress him, taking it over his head, grabbing the tail flap and pulling, and if that doesn't work, then I grab it at the withers and try to pull it forward that way.
I have managed to get him totally tied up in it and have also managed to remove it completely.
However when Aimee was wearing her purple rug, I had a go at removing it, and got double barrelled for my troubles......Must remember to stick to Ferguson.
When Ferguson is wearing his purple rug, I keep trying to undress him, taking it over his head, grabbing the tail flap and pulling, and if that doesn't work, then I grab it at the withers and try to pull it forward that way.
I have managed to get him totally tied up in it and have also managed to remove it completely.
However when Aimee was wearing her purple rug, I had a go at removing it, and got double barrelled for my troubles......Must remember to stick to Ferguson.
Sunday, 23 November 2008
And Then She Didn't Come
Mum is very upset. For more than 15 months, she has been feeding a stray cat - early on when she moved here, she found the cat lying on the roadway, with its head stuck in a tin! It had been scavenging in the bin bags for dinner and had got its head totally wedged inside a tin of catfood - mum was terrified it would suffocate but she managed to prise its head out of the tin somehow even though it was a very tight fit. She thought it would have to go to the vet or call in the fire brigade but eventually she managed to release its head without hurting it.
It ran off doing a fair impersonation of Road Runner, zooming along the road about 50mph! It was a very skinny elderly feral, very very wild, white with black patches, little pinched face, obviously having a hard time getting by. Mum started putting feed out for it but it didn't come back.
Then about 3 months later, as it got colder, one night she saw the cat looking in the cat flap. So food was put out for it every night and it would come after dark and eat up its dinner. It came every single night, and had lots of good quality food to keep it warm - mum even tried to give it worming tablets crushed in the food but no it wouldn't eat that.
She rarely saw the cat, only about 3 or 4 times in the 15 -18 months it was being fed - last time she saw it it look very plump and much happier. She kept hoping that maybe it would find its way into our barn and make a home there, or even come in the catflap but it never did.
Sadly, four weeks ago, on a Friday, it stopped coming. Dmitri, who is an animal communicator, thought that he saw it injured and hiding in amongst wood and metal bits - the farm yard nearby is like that so mum went and searched and searched but no sign of the cat. She went several times, with torches, and crawled around on her hands and knees, trying to find her. But no good.
It is now more than four weeks since she came for her dinner. Mum puts food out every night just in case, but she is very very sad. She just wishes that the little cat had felt confident enough to come and ask for help and that she could have done more for her. She thinks she has gone and hidden and died with no one there to hold her paw.
It ran off doing a fair impersonation of Road Runner, zooming along the road about 50mph! It was a very skinny elderly feral, very very wild, white with black patches, little pinched face, obviously having a hard time getting by. Mum started putting feed out for it but it didn't come back.
Then about 3 months later, as it got colder, one night she saw the cat looking in the cat flap. So food was put out for it every night and it would come after dark and eat up its dinner. It came every single night, and had lots of good quality food to keep it warm - mum even tried to give it worming tablets crushed in the food but no it wouldn't eat that.
She rarely saw the cat, only about 3 or 4 times in the 15 -18 months it was being fed - last time she saw it it look very plump and much happier. She kept hoping that maybe it would find its way into our barn and make a home there, or even come in the catflap but it never did.
Sadly, four weeks ago, on a Friday, it stopped coming. Dmitri, who is an animal communicator, thought that he saw it injured and hiding in amongst wood and metal bits - the farm yard nearby is like that so mum went and searched and searched but no sign of the cat. She went several times, with torches, and crawled around on her hands and knees, trying to find her. But no good.
It is now more than four weeks since she came for her dinner. Mum puts food out every night just in case, but she is very very sad. She just wishes that the little cat had felt confident enough to come and ask for help and that she could have done more for her. She thinks she has gone and hidden and died with no one there to hold her paw.
I Am No Longer A Size Zero
When I arrived in the UK in March 2008, I was a skinny little thing, every bit of my skeleton could be seen and felt, you could play a good tune on my ribs and my spine was a good zylophone!
I was so cold and tired and hungry and mum brought over my tartan coat of many colours to the Scottish Borders Donkey Sanctuary, where I had to rest for a week as I was too weary and weak to travel any further.
This rug was so so big on me, drowned me, you could have got two of me inside it. Now that we are facing arctic conditions, it has been brought out for me, as it is the warmest rug I inherited from Mouse donkey - 350 grms of pure warmth - and it covers me from ears to tail (in fact I can tuck me ears in under the neck bit and keep them warm as well).
Poor Mouse only got to wear it for a month before she died, so it is lovely and warm - but now I fit it! The straps had to be let down more than SIX INCHES so that they would go round my very large warm tummy......mummy says my modelling days are over....I don't care, I like being a more voluptuous Vodka donkey. Mum warns me not to get any bigger or some of the NEW rugs only bought this year won't fit me any more......
This picture shows me when I arrived, you can see how big the rug looks on me - well now it is a perfect fit, just shows a delicate knee and a hint of a tail!
Aimee Hits The Town
Aimee donkey has been very busy out fund raising for various charities. She is due to do one in December for Equine Section but last weekend was out collecting for Belle.
You must remember Belle, she is the mature chestnut mare, gorgeous looking girl, who is living in France with a charity called the Epona Trust. She is doing really well, looks ten years younger, and is having a very happy retirement. She was too ill to come to the UK but we managed to find a lovely retirement home where she is safe.
You can tell by the before and after shots how much happier Belle is - and Aimee looks very fetching in pink....pink was MY colour and she has even borrowed my headcollar - is nothing sacred?
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