The donkey and the cross

A female donkey and her baby.

One of my favorite animals is the donkey. Don’t know why, but I have always had a great fondness for them. Ever since I can remember, as a young child growing up and also throughout my life as an adult, I have always been amused by this gentle creature. It didn’t matter if I was at a ranch, farm, zoo or wherever ... if there were donkeys, I would be there. I loved to join in with others, petting, watching and desiring to get closer in order to observe their mannerisms. Not only am I fond of the donkey, I am partial to their relatives (half-siblings) the mule also. Last summer when a group of us hiked the Grand Canyon from rim to rim, what broke up the monotony when we were close to switchbacks near the bottom? A train of about 12 donkeys and mules, with packs and people riding them, slowly ascended upward past us. Stopping and leaning up against the canyon as they passed, I was the only one petting and greeting the donkeys while everyone else greeted the leader and person riding on top of each donkey passing by.

To this day, whenever I drive up to my church in Pine, turning from Beeline onto Randall Road, I always find myself looking toward the right beyond the multiple fences, to the obscure abode of “Goody.” This donkey is hidden far from the road, barely seen, tightly secured to the fence. One would think that I would be captivated by the beautiful horses whose gated home is near the road on the left. Especially when they are faithful to come to the fence when my car passes by, or when their grazing is so peaceful to look upon and their frolicking in the grass or snow is so breathtaking. Although I do notice the horses, my eyes and heart always ends up looking for Goody, not forgetting this gentle creature that is unnoticed and almost forgotten hidden in the back beside the barn.

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