Things have changed in my family. I now have an older sister, Annabelle. She’s a 15-year-old registered Mediterranean mini donkey, (Dad calls her a little ass.) I’ve only heard the term “Mediterranean” used once by my mom. She expressed her extreme pride in finishing a 2-week Mediterranean diet in just under 3 1/2 half hours. However, I’ve heard the term “ass” used in the house many times…as in Jack, fat, horse’s, dumb…well, you get the picture.
Mom showed me a picture of this so-called “sister”, and I nearly fainted. She has ears big enough to tip her over on her face! She has short little legs, a beer belly, and eyes that are absolutely huge. She has white eye-liner, funky looking teeth, and, trust me…a bark loud enough to wake the dead! Thank goodness she won’t be living in our house. Mom says she’ll be living at the barn. She eats hay off the floor, and she’s not housebroken like I am. She actually poops in her bedroom. GAACK!!!
Mom let her play with my 20-year-old “brother’, a Paint horse gelding, named Winston. I’ve shared nose kisses with him, and he’s awesome. He lives at the barn ’cause he poops in his bedroom, too, but boys are kind of expected to do that…eh? Well, Annabelle got herself in a world of trouble when she decided she didn’t want to be caught when it was time to come inside. It took mom and her best friend nearly a half an hour and some sweet senior feed (the vet calls it donkey crack) to finally get her corralled into what they call a round pen. That’s when mom started to put the girl to “work”. She had to trot around that pen for nineteen minutes before she decided it might be better to face the music and the rope than to keep trottin’ around that pen. I heard mom tell my male human there would be more lessons in that pen before Annabelle would have the taste of freedom again. And then mom giggled when she said how much joy Annabelle brings her.
Mom seems very happy with Annabelle. She says she gets her out of the house and keeps her off the streets. (I’m not sure what that means, but dad rolls his eyes whenever she says it.) I’ll keep you posted as mom shares news about this thing she calls my sister. Dad just shakes his head. Mom bought her a purple halter and lead rope because she’s a “Royal Princes”. Dad says, “Yeah, she’s a royal something!” And he laughs. Me…the whole thing just boggles my mind. I really need a nap. Call me when dinner is served.