‘The little Christmas donkey who has brought us so much joy’
Times were getting tough at Tracy Garton’s animal sanctuary, but the arrival of Alan, a cheeky rescue donkey, ensured the future is merry and bright
One woman’s story of how one animal made all the difference
My Christmas is rather different to most people’s. There are no guests to welcome, vegetables to prepare or turkeys to defrost. In fact, Christmas Day is usually the only day of the year that my husband Steve and I spend by ourselves – except, of course, for our donkeys.
I’ve always been a huge animal lover. As a little girl, I drove my parents mad by sneaking any creature I could get my hands on back into my bedroom – injured birds, lost mice, even a bat. I’d scoop them into my jumper and snuggle them safely on top of the pile of books in my school bag. I even kept a cardboard box in the bottom of my wardrobe, ready and waiting for my next rescue.
While it seems I was destined to work with animals, setting up a donkey sanctuary happened by chance.
When Steve and I got married in 1983, we decided not to have children. Just as some couples always know they’ll start a family, we felt sure it wasn’t for us. Instead, we filled our home with ‘friends’ such as dogs, cats and tortoises. Luckily Steve was an animal lover too, although before he met me, he’d only had a budgie! It was in March 1991 that Steve discovered a neglected mule in a field near our village. He was pacing through the sticky mud on his own, soaking wet and clearly distressed. I couldn’t get him out of my mind. We tracked down his owner, who said we could have him for £250, and I couldn’t resist. I talked a local farmer friend into letting our new mule – whose name was Muffin – live in his field temporarily, alongside his sheep. A couple of weeks later, we found our own field, which we rented as Muffin’s home.
Having Muffin in my life felt like a natural fit, like something had been missing before. Donkeys and mules (the offspring of a donkey and a horse) are such lovely animals
– their expressive faces and varied personalities are irresistible. When you sense that a donkey is grateful for your help, it really hits you in the heart.
When I saw an advert in the local paper looking for someone to give two Skegness beach donkeys a home for the winter, I called straight away.
A few days later, Noddy and Linda arrived in a trailer. In a short space of time, I’d gone from having no donkeys to owning three. It meant I had to stock up on hay and spend more time maintaining the field and stables than before. Word got out around the village, and people would stroll up to the field, asking if they could feed the donkeys treats. The donkeys loved the attention – and I’d never felt happier.
After that, calls started to flood in, and the Radcliffe Donkey Sanctuary was born. Whenever someone saw a donkey living in unsuitable conditions, they’d get in touch. I was no expert, but I couldn’t stand the thought of an animal in distress, and I soon developed a soft spot for every donkey I heard about. After each call, I’d borrow a horsebox and travel across the Midlands – sometimes further. I was working for my family’s video renting business at the time, but the rescue cases took up every spare moment I had.
As time went on, I created three ‘groups’ of donkeys – the Hooligans, the Geriatrics and the Mismatches. The Hooligans alone contained 12 donkeys! I came to know which gang an animal would fit into as soon as I rescued it. More stables had to be built, fences erected and more land rented – it was costing around £20,000 a year to keep us going.
A few years later, we moved to an old farmhouse near Alford in Lincolnshire for more space, and we still live there. It means I left my family’s video business to look after the animals full-time. We held regular fundraising events to finance the ever-mounting veterinary bills. We opened to the public, too, building a tea shop and creating a Sponsor-a-donkey scheme, as well as growing a wonderful team of volunteers. But while I loved the donkeys with all my heart, money was very tight, and there were times when I felt like giving up. Doing the accounts was especially draining – it was my least favourite part. Then, at Christmas 2009, along came Alan…
We rescued Alan from an out-of-town
retail park. He was tied to a lamppost with a piece of old rope – a tiny brown donkey with protruding ribs and hardly any hair. He didn’t have a lot of life left in him, and for days he refused to leave his stable, cowering in a corner. Donkeys are usually sociable animals, so it broke my heart that he wouldn’t join the others. I’d leave the door of the stable open, hoping to coax him out, but nothing seemed to work. It wasn’t until weeks later that I woke to an ear-shattering bray and found him kicking the door of his stable with his hooves. It seemed Alan was ready to face the world.
From then on, Alan established himself as a ‘mischief maker’ and was always playing up to the public to get carrots. Whenever I was working in the field, he’d be the first to come over, tipping over my wheelbarrows as soon as I loaded them with manure. Once he even made off with my hammer between his teeth! But for all his naughtiness, Alan found a firm place in my heart.
At Christmas, we receive cards and gifts for all the donkeys, but Alan
always gets the most. In less than a year, he captured the hearts of so many visitors that our bank balance was finally looking healthier.
I’m often asked how I cope with the long hours and the lack of holidays, but it’s easy to get out of bed when you know you’re making a difference. I feel so lucky to have the life I do, and our donkeys give people so many happy memories.
Alan marked his first Christmas at the sanctuary by hatching an escape plot. I was woken by a neighbour telling me a group of donkeys was wandering the village. The neighbour had opened his curtains to find one nibbling on his hedge. It meant Steve and I spent our Christmas morning running through the streets – me in my pyjamas – chasing 14 escapees and luring them home with ginger biscuits. When I caught Alan loitering behind the pub, I couldn't help but think he was the ringleader…
This Christmas, as always, I’ll be giving thanks for the things that are important to me: my family, friends and, of course,
the donkeys. I’ll even treat them to a festive tipple on Christmas morning – a splash of Guinness, which they adore. Christmas is a time to be with your loved ones, and there’s nowhere I’d rather be.
Alan is now 10, and it seems so long ago that he arrived as a scrawny, sad
little donkey. It’s been a privilege to watch him grow, becoming the cheeky character we all know and love today. He really has given me the perfect gifts: joy and laughter.
‘For all his naughtiness, Alan found a firm place in my heart’