A Donkey and a Longhorn

The Texas longhorn takes a rest, a benign look on his face but obvious strength and daring in his span of horns. A donkey peers through the slats of the wooden fence, his back to the steer, a look of forbearance in his long face. My son, Will Graham, sent me this picture taken between his calls to veterinarians in Alabama.

If I had not spent my adult life with a veterinarian I might not recognize the significance of a cow or steer or even full-fledged fierce bull being guarded by a donkey. The practice of putting at least one or two donkeys in a pasture of livestock started fifty or more years ago. The responsibility of the donkey is to deter coyotes or other vicious wildlife from attacking. I’ve always thought it was funny when I saw a pasture full of cows with a donkey cropping grass amongst them, as if that smooth hornless creature could make a difference in times of danger.

A donkey can make a lot of noise, outlandish noise. He can kick and run and make a nuisance of himself. But what is there about him that discourages wildlife from stealing a tasty calf or two?

Charles shrugged his shoulders in response to my question as if to say who knows? Then, almost as an afterthought, he said “Oh, but, you know he does bite.” He went on to describe the vicious look of a donkey’s mouth when angered. He said that really there’s no telling what a donkey may do. Then he launched into a terrifying tale about a child whom a donkey suddenly grabbed by his collar and hauled across a field lickety-split.

As to the longhorn, what would it be like to be one of those, whether Texas or otherwise? Those long curved horns? Think about it. He can’t get close to anything. Everywhere he goes, he’s burdened with a disagreeable set of weapons he doesn’t necessarily have any desire to use. They get in the way every time he tries to get cozy and, though sometimes helpful tools, they also can be a real liability when trying to break out.

After I saw Will’s picture, I asked Charles if he had ever treated any longhorn cattle. He immediately remembered a small herd in particular. He said he, the owner, and helpers had to round them into an enclosure with openings in the fence for their horns, all facing out. He said a few had been brought to the animal hospital’s large animal barn. Instead of restraining them as usual in a chute, they had to rope them and secure them to a post for their shots and treatments.

So–what am I naming this picture–Weak Guarding Strong? The more Charles and I talked, the more I realized the donkey isn’t really that weak. My new title–Looks Can Be Deceptive.

“The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” I Samuel 16:7