My Lovable Burro

Years ago, twenty-two to be exact, I made a totally unexpected purchase for the ranch—a little dark burro (donkey) with a white nose (muzzle). I was at a wild horse and donkey auction with some friends who were looking for a donkey to guard their goat herd. As we looked in the corrals, first at the horses and then the donkeys, I spotted the little burro. He was in the middle of a herd of mainly large grey donkeys that were showing their discomfort by kicking and biting each other. But this little burro never kicked, never bit. He just looked forlorn, and he melted my heart. So, I put in my bid and came home with a burro. At the time I rationalized the purchase by deciding it would be a nice present for my 12-year-old granddaughter, who had mentioned she wanted a horse. (Her reaction was, “You bought me a WHAT!”) She still wanted a horse. So, every morning to tame him, I carried a bucket of feed into the little pasture where he grazed. Since he had spent the first four years of his life, on his own, in an Arizona desert, it took one month before I could even touch him. Through the years, he has become one of our favorite animals. He never fails to come over and greet me whenever I am near his pasture. He will stand by me indefinitely if I want to rub his ears, and will hold out his pink tongue long after he has received a treat. He welcomes any child who comes to the ranch. If he is grazing near the house in the mornings, he “Sweetly sings the donkey at the break of day” as a reminder he’s ready for his hay or oats. Through the years he has amazed and amused us. Now he is twenty-six and his once dark face is beginning to take on a salt and pepper appearance, but Paco can still melt my heart.