Radar Ears and Kung Fu Donkeys

The first donkey I had the chance to meet and spend any kind of time with was Webster. Our first meeting had me totally enthralled with long ears, and every call that came in from then on had me hoping for another donkey call. We got to meet quite a few, but no one had the impact that Webster and one other "young" lady did. While both my Dear Husband and I adore all of the donkeys and mules we met, these two in particular hold very, very special places in our hearts.

Our other favorite donkey was a little gal named Maria. On our first meeting, we saw a very scared older jenny, who had a sad story behind her. Her mistrust of men was immense, but she did allow me to tend her front feet. My Dear Husband agreed to give me a breather, and see if he could trim up her back feet. Since he has a way with mares and jenny's, we did not think this would be an issue. Maria, however, had other ideas.

My Dear Husband approached Maria with care, and made a quiet low key introduction of himself, quietly explaining that we needed to take care of ALL of her hooves, not just her front ones. Maria was not convinced, and gave my Dear Husband "The Ear", along with "The Eye". She tucked her tiny little hiney under herself as far as she could, keeping her ear on him the whole time.

I need to point out briefly here, that if anyone cares to tell you that donkeys do not have the ability to aim their hooves, they are Dead Wrong. My theory is that the wonderful long fuzzy ears not only are useful for detecting the approach of a predator, I think they are used as radar.

As my Dear Husband eased his way back to Maria’s hindquarters, the Ear followed. She was a bit antsy, shifting her weight from hoof to hoof, and trying to get away. My Dear Husband bent down to gently ask for a hoof, and with lightning speed Maria let fly. She kicked Dear Husband’s hoof knife out of his hand. Not one bit of her hoof touched his hand- but the hoof knife went flying across the stall.

We looked at each other, as I handed him his knife back. I thought, "Hmm. Neat trick!" He thought, "She does this again, and Dear Wife will be trimming her for the rest of our time together!"

Dear Husband attempted once again to gently ask for a hoof, and once again, at the speed of light, Maria let fly with a hoof, kicking the knife again out of his hand. This time she was a wee bit closer to his fingers.

The Ear never moved from Dear Husband’s hand.

This time, as I handed him his knife back, he said, "Your turn. You had enough of a chance to rest. She apparently likes YOU better."

Oh now that is JUST what I wanted to hear! I had just witnessed this donkey kick the hoof knife from my husband’s hands TWICE, and he wants ME to get in there and trim her? He had to have slipped something in his water when I was not looking, as that was the most insane idea I had heard in ages.

I bucked up and managed to get Maria trimmed with out incident.

We had to see Maria every four weeks for quite a while. She would see us coming, and take off on a trek through the small paddock, convinced that if she got behind the barn we would forget she was there, trim the other horses, and leave. Gradually though, she began to feel better about her pedicures, and the day she met us at the gate was a major breakthrough.

Over a period of two years, Maria went from shaking when she saw us, to meeting us at the gate with those lovely ears up, to actually handing us her hooves. I had taken a break and sat down in the paddock where Maria was, and she came lazily up to me for a pat. She sidled up, and next thing I knew, she had handed me a hoof. Dear Husband was there working on another horse, and we both were thrilled by this turn of events.

Maria was a blast to work with from then on. If something was not Right With The Universe, Maria would not hesitate to let us know. Generally, she was content to stand quietly. As she aged though, I could trim two or three feet, and she would get very upset and wiggly, and begin to give me The Ear. It did not take long for us to figure out that she had to visit the Little Jenny’s Room. She was fine after that, and we were able to get her trimmed up in no time.

The shining day though, was when she went up to Dear Husband, and offered him her delicate little hoof. She was wearing no halter, no lead, and no one at her head. Maria had finally decided that it was OK for Dear Husband to share her space. Which was a good thing, as I was pregnant with our first "colt", and under Dr.’s orders to NOT TRIM. We were both very worried about how Maria would react to me not doing the work, and it seemed that day she decided the issue for us. That was a relief, as I could just not come up with a way to sit Maria in a chair next to me!
Every time I see a donkey these days, I can not help but think of Maria. We all went from feeling deep pity for her and her previous life, to laughing and loving to see the changes in her each time. She taught us a tremendous amount about donkey’s, their ability to heal and learn, and also their ability to change and trust. Both Maria and Webster have shown us that donkey’s have an incredible way of expressing themselves, and that they are not shy about sharing their thoughts!

Thank you to Maria, for teaching us that donkey’s know Kung Fu, and can earn their black belts.

In memory of Maria, who passed away in the fall of 2004.