Entente Cordiale

Well, I am beginning to melt. This new man, the Tin Tin, is very much a new man type donkey, very considerate, opens gates for me, let's me eat his dinner, compliments me all the time on how nice I look in my green rug and how much he is looking forward to seeing me in my red one - after all it is Valentine's Day.

I am hopefull that I may be whisked away for a dinner a deux, with pink champagne and all belgian chocolates - ok i know this is not part of the nutritional requirements of a donkey in the wild but then I am a sophisticated mademoiselle donkey and I have acquired these upmarket tastes.

Mum says that I should be careful about stepping out with gallic newcomers particularly if they offer to take me away - have I forgotten all the dreadful things that can happen to a donkey if it goes in the wrong horsebox?

It all comes rushing back - I'm not going anywhere.

I will put him to the test, he can cook the dinner at home for us and then we'll see.

I am waiting for Interflora to arrive with the roses and maybe our feed company to arrive with a special order, all gift wrapped for me......

Love is in the air.

Vodka Has a Touch of the Green Eye

Ok I admit it, I am jealous.

I have been the Princess here for two years now, and sorry but there is competition now from this great french nana they say is to be my new best friend.

Well at least Paris Hilton got a choice of new best friends and had the final say. Me, I am just supposed to bond with whoever is offered and make the best of it.

So I have dug my beautifully manicured hooves in and said NON!

I have pulled my elegant donkey ears back as far as they will go and glowered at him. I have even charged at him and told him to go back to France....He just stands there, doe eyed, and then I feel mean, well just a bit, not too much. Not enough that I am going to back down.

I will not share my hay with him never mind sweet nothings. It is all too too terrible for words.

I may have to leave home.

Vodka's Arranged Marriage

Mum has been muttering about getting me a boyfriend. It's been going on a while, mainly along the lines of you are so young compared to the other two donkeys and we would never want you to be alone.

So what turns up - a huge French donkey name of Tin Tin....ok so he has a nice french accent and we can discuss croissants and cafe au lait, but

It's a big but. He towers over me. Mum said she got a bit of a shock when the ramp went down and this enormous head looked out hopefully....even the headcollar she had bought him in anticipation of his arrival is a tad neat.

And none of the rugs we have here fit him. Nor does his stable - there is going to be a lot of shifting around to make room for this mammoth.

Now while I appreciate her concern about me being a single lady, at the very least I think I should have been consulted. Maybe we could have reviewed candidates on the plasma screen in my stable and I could have been penpals for a while and then made up my mind,but no, here he is take it or leave it.....

I may well leave it, I am as the Empress of India said, not amused.

Spencer Is Adorable

I know these sheep that I have to live with are as dim as anything - well Spencer is at least.

Betty is bright, Mark is pretty switched on, Frank is noisy and bleats in a deep baratone, Noona and Sonix sort of don't communicate with me very much, but Spencer doesn't think he is a sheep and is always trying to get into our stables and mum says he probably wants to come into the house.

This is him looking at his most appealing. Mum says that many folks would consider he would be more appealing with mint sauce, but then I am prejudiced, I prefer him just as he is.

Rosie is getting better

It has been a long haul but the old trout's leg is looking much better.

She really did hurt herself badly on New Year's eve - so I can almost forgive her for spoiling my party and planned entertainment. I hope the pipe band got another gig when I had to suddenly cancel.

She is still on walkway rest which means she can't come out into the field, but is confined to a small bit of path, so she can't run around and open up the wound.

If you are squeamish look away now. For a horse that almost faints at the sight of a needle, she has been very brave, having her sore bits bathed and bandaged every day.

Yet Again, Vodka Donkey is in disgrace

I am lucky I got my dinner tonight, mum says if she had known what a stupid, unthinking donkey I was going to be today, she would not have filled my manger this morning.

I was already on the naughty step as it was. Some of you may know my fetish for undressing other donkeys robbing them of their nice warm rugs. Mainly my target has been little Ferguson, who is very long suffering and doesn't complain very much when I tug his rugs over his head, blinding and trussing him in the process. He even puts up with me jumping on him (despite me being twice as big as him) and is very very tolerant.

Till now, Aimee has avoided my attentions as she turns around and boots me if I get a bit too exuberant and boisterous.

However, yesterday, mum found Aimee trussed and bound in the field - with her rug pulled up over her head, so she couldn't see. And over her front, so she couldn't walk. I know it's a bit late for Xmas but she was a bit like a trussed turkey.

Without the benefit of a jury trial, I was convicted of this henious crime on the basis of my previous bad character and previous form, which is very unfair, as I believe that I am innocent until proven guilty. This seems to be an infringement of my donkey rights, and I will be in touch with the appropriate lawyer in the morning. Mum says get used to it, there is no such thing as justice these days.

Today though I got into even more trouble so much so that mum has said that transportation back to the fat farm may be an option. This is the ultimate special rendition and there is no way I am going back on that lorry and heading off to Italy.

She doesn't know how I did it, and to be honest I'm a bit vague on the sequence of events that led to my latest offence and downfall, but mum found me with my front leg down between Aimee's back legs, so that we were joined together by the straps on her rug - which I must say in my defence was still on her back and where it should be. Now is it my responsibility that rug designers put these stupid straps just where a playful donkey's leg might slip.....Mum says Aimee wouldn't need the blooming straps on her rug if I left it alone....I have to concede that there is an element of truth in that.

But there we were, like siamese twins, joined by the tail strap on the rug, and stuck there. Aimee tried to move forward, dragging me with her, but my weight pulled the rug backwards, so she couldn't move any more, as it was so tight with both of us trying to wear it.

Mum scolded me, after disentangling us, and told me that's how tragic accidents like broken legs happen, and this leads to dead donkeys.

I am chastened, but next time I will not be stupid enough to get caught. I have a cunning plan.

My New Year Party is Ruined

I had it all planned, the pink champagne fountain, canapes, a few special guests such as the Scottish stumpies. The invitations had gone out and my New Year party was going to be the talk of the county.

I was just coming in to get into my glad rags when it all went pear shaped. Or Rosie shaped.

She just had to do it to mess things up!

Mum had come to bring us in for an early evening supper before we got down to the serious Hogmanay celebrations. Line the stomach and all that before we taste some malts later on. Rosie was standing there, one leg dangling - naturally blocking the way so NONE of us could get in, talk about being inconsiderate, if you are going to break you leg in the field could you do it without any inconvenience to your field mates.

Mum in a panic runs down the hill - leaving us all standing (well all of us except Rosie)- shouting at dad to ring vet and tell him to bring a gun (remember Rosie is needle phobic of course). Comes back, tries to get Rosie to move, but she can't, I have, at this moment a tiny soupcon of sympathy for the old trout, as she is wincing in pain and almost in tears. She just cannot put her leg down and stand on it. It doesn't look good I have to say.

In the end, we clever donkeys manage to squeeze past her and come in for our supper! After all, if the silly trout is going to be shot, I'm not going to miss my dinner for that - i saw enough death at the death camp in France, so excuse me if I am not as upset as all that.

Molly is eventually brought in, but dad doesn't take her rug off, as she is in a complete tizz without Rosie and charging at the door, so the best thing is to get her in and just close it. Molly refuses to eat her dinner, box walks and turns her stable into a sauna. Which was very good hearted of her as it is sub zero up here. Molly can usually be relied upon to do the right thing and have some community spirit.

Mum has by now taken three more of Rosie's rugs down to her - as the old biddy was going into shock and was so cold - and also her dinner so that if she is going to be shot, she at least has something to eat first. Very considerate I think. They were gone for such a long time, it is so cold out there, I am worried for mum as she wasn't wearing her proper outdoor clothes! Just a skimpy blouse under her jacket.

She manages to drag Rosie up the walkway to about 50 yards from the barn, so at least she isn't in the dark and the lights can illuminate her. I hear her begging Rosie to try to walk, as if she is to be saved she has to get to the stables or it is useless. I can hear her crying and pleading with Rosie but Rosie can't move, she just can't take another step, she is swaying and unsteady and very worried.

Finally the vet arrives, declares that Rosie is a big Jessie and it doesn't look like a fracture. With a bit of encouragement and shoving Rosie finally comes into the barn, still very very scared and sore. The vet clips her leg, dresses a very very deep wound, and leaves me to the ruins of my party.

Rosie is very sore, very worried, she grunts a lot, won't eat. Molly is by now dripping with sweat, and eyes popping out of her head, mum spends the next two hours trying to get her dry and not quite so warm.

I start ringing my guests - party cancelled.

Lights are out by 11pm - I think of what might have been! I am booking up for a cruise next year.