Sweet harmony
In addition to providing my solitary mare with companionship, my donkey has brought a new tranquility to my farm.
My half-Arabian mare, Sally, has appeared in the pages of EQUUS half a dozen times over the years. I’ve described a memorable trail ride, offered tips I learned while creating a dry lot for her, and shared how I came to appreciate Sally as my “second once-in-a-lifetime” horse.
Later, in “The Power of One”
(EQUUS 469), which I wrote after my old gelding died, I described how my search for a new companion for Sally petered out because I eventually realized she seemed content living alone. I kept her busy, allowing her to socialize with other horses at trail rides and shows, and for years she was relaxed and happy.
Then came our Very Bad Day at a horse show (“Lesson Learned,”
Back Page, EQUUS 488), when my normally unflappable mare had a complete bucking, spinning meltdown in the warm-up arena. I can only guess at the reasons behind that incident---but I strongly suspected it had something to do with her not wanting to be separated from my friend’s horse back at the trailer area. It was time to reexamine my belief that Sally was happy living alone.
When I’d explored my options the first time around, I’d decided against taking on another horse. With my busy schedule, it can be difficult to find the time to ride just one horse, and I didn’t want the added burden of caring for another. I’d considered getting a goat or another companion animal but never found a good fit.
As I renewed my search for a companion for Sally, I wasn’t sure where it would take me. And at first it seemed unlikely that I would find the right companion for her.
Then one afternoon, my husband
called me to our office to take a look at an ad he had found on our local community website. Staring out at us from the computer screen was the adorable face of a yearling donkey. For $150 she could be mine.
I called the owner to ask if the donkey was still available. Delighted to learn that she was, we hitched up the trailer and went to investigate.
When we arrived, the little donkey was standing alone in a small, muddy paddock with a run-in shelter. Although it was summer, she still had a shaggy winter coat.
My husband and I stood back as the owner walked into the paddock to catch her. Before I knew it, everything that I’d ever learned about savvy horse shopping flew out the window. The owner told us that the little donkey had never been vaccinated or dewormed, nor had she ever had her feet trimmed. She wore a makeshift headstall, but she was far from halter broken and had never been on a trailer. Still, looking into her enormous eyes, I decided that we had to take her home.
Sensing my decision, my husband returned to the truck and brought me a rope. I fashioned it into a butt rope so that I could nudge our new donkey into our trailer. My husband swung the door open, and the donkey and I moved forward. Much to everyone’s surprise, she jumped right in. I counted out the cash to pay her owner, and we swiftly drove away.
During the ride back to our farm, I contemplated how best to introduce our new donkey to Sally. Although she looked scruffy, the yearling seemed healthy. She had never left her previous owner’s farm, nor had any of the other donkeys living there, so I decided to take the risk of skipping a quarantine.
Once home, the donkey unloaded easily, and I led her over to Sally’s dry lot. After a brief scuffle, mainly amounting to some posturing from Sally, things quieted down. Instead of regarding her new companion as a peer or rival, Sally treated her like a youngster who needed guidance. Sally appeared to lead the donkey around the dry lot, showing her where to find the water trough, the hay feeder and the run-in shed.
Before our eyes, Sally’s demeanor changed visibly. I’d never noticed a slight tension about her until it was lifted, and she reached a new degree of serenity. The little donkey, in turn, seemed to revel in the attentions of her newfound friend.
Soon it was clear what our donkey’s name should be: Harmony. She had ushered in a new era of tranquility for all of us.
Donkeys are the ultimate easy keepers---they can thrive on lower quality pastures than horses can--so the grass-hay diet I feed to Sally works for Harmony, too, and she needs no extra feeds or supplements. Over the days and weeks that followed I dewormed Harmony, had her hooves trimmed, and made certain that she was up-to-date on her vaccinations.
Her long coat shed out and her natural beauty started to shine through.
Meanwhile, Harmony has taught me a lot. Vaccines, hoof care, deworming and other care for donkeys are pretty much the same for donkeys and horses ---any differences are not nearly as significant as I once thought. Harmony’s coat handles rain differently from Sally’s--the water soaks in more--and she also does not like wind but our run-in shed is big enough to keep her comfortable. The woven-wire fencing I had already chosen for Sally’s dry lot is also appropriate for Harmony, so I was lucky there, too.
Training is another matter. Donkeys learn differently from horses, and the process of halter-breaking Harmony moved along more slowly than I would have expected. I discovered that I need to allow Harmony more time to process what I’m asking her to do.
One thing I find particularly amusing is Harmony’s reaction to treats. Sally gleefully gulps them down, barely taking the time to chew and swallow before asking for more. In contrast, Harmony holds them in her mouth, appearing to savor the goodness before she chews and swallows; she never overtly asks for another.
She responds to affection in her own way, too. Sally seems to enjoy my attention at any time. Harmony, however, uses body language to let me know when my pats and scratches are welcome and when they are not.
In addition, I have become accustomed to Harmony’s way of using brays as a form of punctuation. She beckons to Sally on just two occasions ---once as we leave their lot, and once as we return. It’s like she’s saying goodbye, then welcoming her friend back home.
Our little donkey has made life on our farm happier. Looking back, I now know that most of my assumptions about donkeys were wrong. I only wish we had found Harmony long ago.
Our little donkey has made life on our farm happier. I only wish we had found Harmony long ago.