The New Fly Mask: When I knew what Jenny wanted

In summer the flies started bothering Renn's eyes; I got a fly mask for him to wear.    Jenny wasn't having the problem, but I didn't realize the mask was also a fashion statement.  One afternoon I took Renn in the round pen for training;  Jenny watched from the gate.  I removed his fly mask so I could see his eyes, hanging it on a hook near the gate.  Renn and I started our work, but we were interrupted by an unusual sound.  It was Jenny's little "donkey talk", asking for my attention.  When I turned toward her, she looked deeply into my eyes (mind?) and turned to Renn's mask.  She started licking it and rubbing her nose on it very lovingly.  She then turned back to me as if to say...well, do you understand?  I told her I did understand, and stroked her beautiful face.  Renn's training session was short that day, as I needed to visit the feed store for another mask in Jenny's size.  When I returned home with the bag, she knew exactly what was in it; she met me at the gate, watching happily as I opened the box.  She offered her head for the mask, and felt so beautiful with it on.  I got out the camera and she actually posed for pictures.  What a happy little girl!

Jenny Makes Renn Feel Safe

Some background:  Renn's stall was in a small barn near our house.  His feed box was in there, and he was free to come and go at will.  The roof is metal.  Renn had never been in a barn before coming here.  He liked the stall at first, but when the first storm came, the noise frightened him; he ran out and wouldn't go back in.
About a week after Jenny came to live with us, a spring thunderstorm came up.  Jenny hadn't had shelter before, so she huddled on the north side of a solid wood fence.  Renn came quickly to her and herded her into the little barn.  This was the first time I had seen him herd; apparently he knew the barn was safe, so even though he wasn't able to tolerate it himself, he put Jenny in.  Jenny loved it, and within another day Renn went in,  accompanied by Jenny.  This little girl made my Paint horse brave.

Jenny's First Night: Coyote's Goodbye Serenade

On the other side of our east fence, near the small barn for Renn, was a den of coyotes who had lived there for many years, according to the neighbors.  Every night they had yipped and howled, alarming my horse and startling the newly-transplanted city-dwellers.  After Jenny arrived, she explored the pasture and fences, accompanied by her new fan, Renn.  Down the back fence she marched, stopping occasionally to point her ears toward the brushy forest where bobcats and possibly cougar lived.  I realize now that she was establishing her boundaries, already promising that we would be safe with her on the job.  Rounding the back corner, she came up the east fence where the coyotes lived in the dense forest.  Stopping, she looked back at Renn, turned and pointed those beautiful ears to the east, intent and focused.   Darkness was falling by then, and the two equines went back to graze.  As soon as it was dark, the yipping and howling coyotes told us goodbye.  I was raised on a farm, and was familiar with the sound, but this was intense, loud and long.  The next day they were gone.  Also, the snakes that had been on our patio each morning were gone.  Jenny had done her work quickly and quietly.  She walks tall for a short girl.

Jenny Arrives: Renaissance Painter's Dance of Joy and Lesson in Manners

I followed the stock trailer down I-35, knowing that inside was the small standard donkey I had just met and loved.  What to name her?  Jenny, I thought, because if my last child had been a girl, that would have been her name.  It didn't even occur to me that Jenny was a jenny!  When we exited the highway, I took the lead toward the small road to our place.  When the trailer stopped, so did I; I went to the back with a halter for my new little girl.  I heard galloping hoofbeats, looked up, and saw my Paint snorting with head held high, certainly not depressed any longer!  There he was at the gate, waiting to see who was coming!  Jenny put her head in the halter, and with tiny feet stepped down and into our lives.  I took her in the pasture and released her as Renaissance Painter greeted her with a sniff and an explosion of happiness.  As she stood quietly watching, Renn tore around the acreage bucking, rearing and leaping into the air.  Down the hill he came at a gallop, stopping on a dime in front of Jenny.  Sniff, sniff.  And off he went again.
Mr. B, the donkey breeder, stood at the fence with me and said, "That is the purest expression of joy I have ever seen."  It truly was.  This performance went on for about 15 minutes, stopping with a final sniff at this new little donkey.  Mr. B smiled and commented, "She'll teach him some manners soon."  I didn't understand what he meant until the next morning.  Jenny and Renn were fast friends by then, but Renn had a small hoof-shaped arc of blood on the middle of his face.  He was very polite to Jenny, and has remained so.

04/2007: How Jenny Came to Me

It was two and a half weeks into my grand adventure, and I was distraught. My dream of a horse ranch had come true, complete with my dream horse. But the beautiful Paint gelding Renaissance Painter was depressed; the coyotes and bobcats across the fence were scaring the spots off him. His instant bond with me was not enough; like all horses, he needed his own kind. I grabbed the newspaper classifieds, searching for something, anything equine. As my eyes scanned the page, they stopped not on "Horses", but on "Exotic Animals". There it was in black and white: Donkeys for Sale. "Well, donkeys are cute", I thought, "and only $300.00. I think I'll call." Impulse began to rule the day as I made an appointment at a donkey breeding farm about 30 miles northwest of our place. I knew ZERO about donkeys, but I left immediately. Arriving there, I waited at the gate and marvelled at the sight of over a hundred donkeys, mules and horses peacefully grazing on the rolling hills of a vast green pasture. The owner arrived, escorting me down the curving drive to a pen with beautiful donkeys for sale. I entered the pen, seeing different colors and sizes of donkeys, some with new foals. They were all healthy and happy, but my eyes went to a small gray-dun jenny who watched me intently. I couldn't look away. She asked me to take her home and I silently agreed. Her owner, sensing the connection, said she had been with him for eight months, acquired with a group of donkeys from Texas. With hundreds of animals on his farm, Mr. B apparently knew each of them. "She's a good little girl," he said. "She fostered a colt who lost his mother. She'll be a fine guard donkey for you." He explained that she would keep predators away from our place, once she bonded with us. I had no idea. My first lesson in donkey-ology complete, I asked him if he would deliver her. He answered by settling a loop of his lasso around her neck and gently asking her to load in his stock trailer. She gave me a last look, and walked right in. Before I had time to think, I became the owner of Jenny, a small standard donkey. I soon discovered that she had plans for me.