End of an Era

Today began like most others around here. I woke up way too early, spent a couple hours journaling on the couch with Frankie nestled beneath a blanket beside me, and went out to feed the equines before heading to a 9 a.m. CrossFit workout. 

Chad walked outside around 9:45 to open what I call the breakfast gate, the one that separates the boys from the girl so they each eat their own portions. Cinder was hanging out in the center area. Cappy roamed over to stand by our visiting bearded collie, Annie. Little Red was standing knee deep in the hay on the opposite side of the fence from Cappy and his canine friend.

Less than thirty minutes later, I pulled into the driveway after an invigorating workout and noticed Little Red lying on his side in the pasture. He's been sleeping a lot more the last couple months, so I pushed down the initial panic as I parked in the garage. Tossing my stuff on the kitchen counter, I kicked off my gym shoes and slipped into paddock boots before hustling out to check on my little donkey.

When I lived on Plains Road years ago, the neighbor who lived in the rental house in front of my pasture used to yell at me every day when my mare napped. "Your horse is dead!" She would holler at me until I walked outside to my horse, who would get up or at least flick her ear to let us know she was alive. After the fifth or sixth time, I told the neighbor to toss an apple out to my horse if she was worried. Horses sleep!

This morning with Little Red felt different. He's been acting, just...off, the past couple of months. More lying down naps. Spending more time away from the horses than with them. Nothing big. Just not himself. 

A couple weeks ago, at the Shawna Karrasch R+ Clinic I hosted here, Red was a rockstar! One of our certifying professionals, Leslie, asked to work with him for her sessions, and it was the cutest thing I have ever seen! Day 1, he had everyone cracking up as he meandered under the blue chain on the reverse round pen, balancing just right to topple multiple cones over and causing general destruction. On Day 2 of the clinic, Leslie got Red's very first "send to target" and earned a round of applause from all of us watching. 

Red has been in the family since September of 2010. He was sassy and opinionated from the start, clearly never understanding that his small stature might have been an impediment to being king of the pastures. When I brought him home, Red immediately befriended Snickers, who towered over him. Nick, my standard donkey, and Red were like brothers: tormenting each other, but loving each other deeply. When I brought Cappy home, Red bossed him around and let him know that Cinder had been his first. I'll never forget the image of Red, chasing after Cappy to protect Cinder. Leaping into the air, Red bit Cappy's neck, but landed flat on his rump, all four little legs straight out in front. He teetered precariously for a few seconds before tipping forward, regaining his footing, and continuing after his target. 

But this morning's nap was Little Red's last. At some point between standing in his favorite hay pile and my returning home, my sweet thirty year old mini donkey lay down to nap, closed his eyes, and went to sleep forever. I knew he was gone before I stepped into the pasture, but I begged him to wake up anyway. Chad came out a few minutes later and found me there beside our sweet little donkey. We stayed while Cinder came over to say good-bye. Poor Cappy could only come so close before slowly moving away. 

What will we do without our sweet little donkey? When Nick died two years ago, Red mourned in a way that tore me apart. His bray lamented the loss of his best friend, echoing our pain at the tremendous loss we felt. He was never really the same since, though he and Cappy were buddies, keeping each other company when I hauled Cinder away from home for camping and day riding. 

Little Red spent half of his life here, pampered, spoiled, and loved beyond measure. You couldn't help but love him when you met him. His passing ends my era as a Donkey Mom. Nick and Red are together again, leaving us here to grieve them, but remembering them as loving creatures who brought us so much joy while we were able to share their world.

Good-bye, my little donkey. You will be missed.