A donkey-shaped hole in my heart

The little heart that beat against the great tide of heartache stopped tonight.

Annie's head was on my lap when she died. I felt so privileged to be with her. She has left a donkey-shaped hole in my heart forever.

Letting Go

Annie has seemed stronger for the last two days. She's eaten more........... begun to make real donkey noises again and consumed more food than she has all week.

But I know in my heart that this is the end of her time on earth. Baghera, the wild farm cat, was sitting with her tonight when I came to feed her late feed. He is such an untamed creature and yet so calm and tranquil.

He purred and purred and licked all of the hay and detritus away from her nostrils, while I prepared her bottle.

Annie drank everything, gratefully tonight.........but I can see that her heart and soul have moved on and tomorrow her little fragile body will leave too.

My darling baby Annie..............go in peace.

I have learned such joy, gratitude and humility from you.

Where there is life.............

The goslings have been a source of wonder and laughter in an otherwise exhausting week. Annie is still very weak and dependent, but continuing to eat and drink well and today...... for the first time in the nine days since her collapse, she managed a tiny bray when I went in with her breakfast!

She is such a delicate and fragile creature, that she reminds me of a little porcelain animal, with her huge eyes, long eyelashes and delicate bone structure. Her temperature and breathing rate remain normal and her bowels and bladder are working well. (Believe me!....... I do the mucking out.)

Sometimes, I long to collapse next to her in the sweet-smelling hay, put my arms around her frail body and sleep for days. I spend hours stroking her, doing Ttouches and massaging her thin little legs. Her tiny hooves aren't much bigger than a R5 coin although she's nearly a year old. Keeping the flies off her is a mission and so is keeping her cool in this sweltering heat. Thank heaven the hayshed is open on one side and I have a herbal fly repellant to sponge her down with.

I've started singing to her, during the long regular feeding sessions. Mostly songs from "Fiddler on the Roof", "Oliver" and " My Fair Lady". Her preference is for "Oliver" so far........ possibly the orphan connection? The theory behind the singing is that she'll either be
frightened into standing up or, out of sheer desparation.........find enough energy to kick me!

The baby geese, in contrast, have abundant energy. Their parents are attentive and intelligent and a little on the obsessive side. No-one else can go through my bedroom garden without being savaged by Piers, though thankfully I'm allowed unlimited access. (There had to be some payoff for feeding Pandora on her nest twice a day for weeks.) I've never been accorded goose status before, but these two clearly regard it as a compliment and who am I too argue?

Lives end and lives begin

Annie is drifting away slowly. No human love can anchor her to the earth that separated her from her mother and her best friend.

And Piers-Goose, her protector and companion through the last few days has had to focus his attention elsewhere. His wife, Pandora, after many failed hatchings....has produced 4 beautiful and perfect little goslings.

Piers and Pandora have taken them up to visit Annie in the hay-shed numerous times in the last 48 hours, often while I'm there feeding Annie.

They are truly awe-inspiring little creatures and they give me such hope for the future.

I've had to fish them out of nasty places and help them over obstacles, and their parents have enough faith to let me handle them without attacking me. What a privilege!

My heart is so touched by Piers visiting Annie........ and bringing Pandora and the babies to visit her today. There is so much that we don't know about inter-species communication.

Gratitude for the healthy ones!

Annie went downhill fast on Saturday night and seemed to slip even further on Sunday morning.

I've been cutting green kikuyu by hand, soaking it and feeding it mixed with grated carrots and soaked lucerne pellets.........and in between the feeds, I've managed to syringe fluids down her throat.

She had her last feed by torch-light last night, but I had to prop her head up on a hay-bale to feed her, because she couldn't lift it herself. I left her sleeping snugly in the straw and went in to bed with a heavy heart.

This morning, I felt the same sense of dread going out to the hay-shed.

There she lay, still recumbent, but with her little head raised and plucking oat hay enthusiastically from the bale in front of her! She's had a better feed this morning than she's had for several days and when I came in to feed the others, her nose...... poking out of the too-big fly mask.......was eagerly searching for the grass in front of her.

Looking out over the rest of my herd, munching contentedly at their hay-nets I realised how blessed I am to have so many healthy, happy animals and in a way.........what a privilege it is to be able to help a sick one now and then!

That deep special relationship that builds with an animal nursed back to health, is something few people ever experience. I'm so grateful to be one of the lucky ones.

Can a broken heart mend?

Tonight will be Annie's rallying point or her time to leave.

I've syringed fluids into her every hour and she's sat up on her chest several times to eat carrots and sliced apples. The donkey herd has visited her regularly.

But she's not sure what to do.................whether to stay with us....... or leave............?

Food and fluids are going in the front end, and lovely droppings are coming out the other end. (That's gratuitous info for owners of equines who understand how critical droppings are.)

We roll her every six hours to avoid compression of her little lungs.

I've made peace with her decision. She's not in pain and if she chooses to stay with us, she will be cherished until the end of her donkey life.

I've held her head in my lap for so many hours in the last few days, stroked and caressed it .......... that I know every little bump and groove beneath the skin.

There's nothing wrong with her clinically, and scientists would laugh at the "broken hearted" theory?

Hunting dogs.

Megs' comment on the "Dogs used and abused for hunting" post, makes me realise just how widespread this appalling practice is.

Not only are many of the dogs abused, but the experience for the hunted animal is beyond horrifying. Sadly it's a "sport" pursued by people at all levels of society.

Last year in a joint operation with the police and local SPCA, 7 hunting dogs were seized from the premises of an affluent farmer. Two of the bitches were heavily pregnant and yet all of the dogs were emaciated, dehydrated and flea and tick ridden.

They were being held in disgusting enclosures and the only evidence of food was the remains of an emaciated calf which had been thrown in for them to chew on.

I think that this practise should be completely outlawed whether it's traditional or not! Fox-hunting is illegal in the UK now ( after centuries of appalling, blood-thirsty cruelty)..........and I feel strongly that we should be going the same route?

A new day.

The snug warmth and the sweet fragrance of oat hay, seem to have given Annie a new lease on life. This morning she shlurped her bottle in record time, tucked into her bucket of Speedi-beet and pellets and then settled down to munch contendedly on a pile of hay and lucerne.

She's still very weak and unable to stand on her own, but hopefully the round the clock ministrations will soon have her back on all fours and out with her herd.

In the meantime, across the Atlantic a battle of gigantic proportions is being waged against the round up of America's wild horses and burro's. Please click on the Equine Welfare Alliance link or google "Cloud Foundation" and share the information with horse and animal lovers you know. The more voices that are added to the world wide protest, the more likely it is that the mustangs will continue to enjoy the freedom and protection that they deserve.

Annie, my heart...please keep going.

Annie, made it through today with a lot of attention and nursing.

Everything on the farm has revolved around her needs..... horse feeds..... dog walks. Everyone has had to wait, and they've done so willingly.

She's snug and warm in the hay-shed tonight because the weather looks squally. I sat with her feeding her from a bottle at 21.30 South African time (20 minutes ago).

She LOVES her bottle.....like most babies.

She arrived as a 24 hour old, almost dead orphan, at the same time as Charlie-Moo, 13 months ago, and I bottle fed them both for 4 months.

720 bottle feeds!........believe me, that many feeds give you ample time for bonding!

This pic shows them at my bedroom door (in the early months) waiting for brekky bottles.

I hope and pray that Annie will make it through the night, because I love her with all my heart!

A rough night!

It was a stormy night. Thunder, lightning and rain squalls passed overhead. I had to get up five times to change Annie's covering.

3 saturated horse rugs are hanging up to dry and most of the large towels in the house have been used. The sun pops out briefly in between showers though, and miraculously, Annie has made it through the night.

Piers didn't leave her side for a moment in spite of the weather and honked frantically twice when she managed to contort herself into a U with her head twisted behind her. Propping her up on pillows solved the head problem and first thing this morning she drank a whole litre of fluids from her old baby bottle.

She's not out of the woods by any means, but I'm taking hope from the fact that she's sitting up and drinking!

Annie's anguish

Charlie-Moo has been gone for two days and Annie is devastated. She's a healthy little donkey in every way, dewormed, well-fed, loved..........


We found her collapsed in the reed-bed today, near where the other donks were grazing. She was listless and depressed.

I have her outside my bedroom window now, with her favorite goose, Piers, standing guard over her. We'll nurse her through the rainy night............ but how do you mend a broken heart?

Ariadne's arrival (and the courage of cats?)

This morning was one of those glorious mornings that makes you want to leap out of bed with a glad cry.

I'm not much given to leaping as a rule, being more of a stretch, yawn and amble-slowly-out-to-the-horses, sort of person. I reached for my wellies and slipped a foot into one.

Slipping into the other wellie, was what started the leaping!! Something large and wriggly had taken up residence ahead of my toes. I leaped onto the bed and watched in disbelief, as a spider scuttled out. She was easily the size and texture of a very large and hairy man's hand. Fond memories of "Charlotte's Web" were banished without a qualm. This arachnid could have swallowed Charlotte and her offspring without a hiccup!

For an intense moment we observed each other, the spider and I. A creature this prepossessing needs a name I thought......... Ariadne.

"Leave now, Ariadne?" I pleaded quietly, "the door's open".

The cats observed me from their corner of the duvet.

"Chase it out, guys?" a slightly more desparate plea. Feline eyes rolled.

"Is she insane?" one asked the other............... "It's got EIGHT legs...........IMAGINE HOW MANY TEETH IT MUST HAVE?" A session of urgent mutual grooming ended the interaction.

Ariadne took a tentative step towards the open French window. I swear the floor boards creaked....... And then she was gone, streaking towards the hayshed like an Olympic athlete. I've never been so thrilled to see the rear end of a crittur. The cats continued grooming.

"Spiders can climb you know!" I said spitefully, and had the satisfaction of seeing two feline faces peering anxiously over the edge of the bed as I left the room.

Annie's heartache

Little farm dramas unfold daily. Minute on the grander scale of things but harrowing to the Hogwallow creatures involved.

Charlie-Moo did a teenage heifer mind-change this morning and hurtled off to join the Nguni herd leaving Annie behind......and desolate!

Kind Delphinium-donkey is providing love and comfort to the forlorn little orphan and I'm having to step in with extra cuddles too.

What makes a child do this?

What makes a 13 year old boy shoot a little wild bird and then impale its mutilated body on his bird-loving neighbour's gate?

This afternoon we had a productive meeting with a School Headmaster who has agreed to help us intervene in this troubled child's life before his behaviour escalates out of control. Hopefully we'll be able to introduce Humane Education as part of the school curriculum next year.

There must be something dark and terrifying going on in that young mind or in that family, to make him capable of such an act of random cruelty.

Bulbuls are such cheerful chirpy little birds and they mate for life. Seeing that poor little body displayed so grotesquely really sickened me!

Dogs used and abused for hunting

What a pitiful ending for man's best friend!

Hunting wildlife with dogs is a barbaric practise. Starving the dogs to improve their hunting skills, (a common practice!) makes it even more appalling and should be punishable by a lengthy jail term.

These poor hunting dogs were left without food and water for 5 days by their inhumane owners and were beyond salvation when we found them.

A criminal case has been opened against the two men concerned and hopefully justice will take it's course. I know what I'd like to do to them!

Please speak out against the use and abuse of dogs for hunting. It should be a criminal offence.

Death of a tick-picker - RIP Wanda!

Like most farms, Hogwallow has a small flock of chickens, geese and other assorted ground-bound birds. They remove ticks from horses, donkeys and cattle and are suitably revered as useful members of the community. All are characters in their own right, but some are more characterful than others.

Stanislaw and Wanda have been two particular favorites. With their strange hair-dos and total devotion to each other, they snuck into everyones' hearts and the horses have always been particularly respectful of their tiny presences around large hooves.

They've been allowed to forage around the horse buckets in return for removing the irritating, bitey things around the horses' legs. Win - win?

Earlier this week, tragedy struck! Stan and Wanda, wandered into one of the no-go areas on the farm.....where the rescued dogs are walked twice a day. The fight was on........... 6 large dogs versus 2 very small and rather slow Polish Bantams.

Stan survived, but the late lamented Wanda, hasn't been seen since.

The little rooster's grief seems to know no bounds. Stanislaw has searched for Wanda every day. He goes from bush to tree to structure and clucks pitifully.

After a suitable period of mourning, we'll try to introduce Stan to a new lady-love. But in the meantime we're all wearing black arm bands and averting our eyes when he mopes past.

And in the meantime............ the term "bird-brain" has been struck from our vocabulary!

Charlie-Moo makes a life choice!

This morning, Charlie-Moo made a tough choice and a possible long term commitment!

The little Holstein calf picked up near death next to the road in September 2008, is now a large black and white heifer. She's still devoted to her little companion, orphan donkey Annie, who was bottle reared with her ( and she's pretty attached to the other donkeys too.)

When the Nguni herd passed by on their way up to the high pastures earlier, Charlie stopped grazing and began to follow them along the road. Annie brayed at her "Don't leave me, Charlie!", but Charlie seemed enchanted with the big bovines.

My heart sank. Annie trotted along behind Charlie, casting anxious glances back at the other donkeys.

The Nguni herd and Charlie and Annie disappeared over the crest of the hill and I began to fret. Charlie's big enough to cope with the big horned creatures, but Annie's such a timid little creature. With a lump in my throat, I turned back to the horse paddock to check on haynets and water buckets.

Chores done, I closed the gate and started back to the house.

And then joy!

Galloping and bucking like horses they cavorted down the hill towards me..... Charlie and Annie in a cloud of dust. The donkey chorus started up.......loud brays of welcome echoing through the valley. The friends were home!

Charlie's status as an honorary donkey seems safe and Hogwallow settles back into contented silence.

Rollkur- Rescued pony submits!

Thor put on his own mini dressage display today!

He performed a levade, a sort of crab-like piaffe and then tucked his head into his chest in true Rollkur fashion for 10..................20.................no wait!..............25 seconds! (I think that he may have had a resident tick or horse-fly on his chest)

Granted, this was liberty dressage (no Dutch or Danish riders on board), some might call it free-style rodeo.... but has that little pony got style?!

I offered to introduce him to the training method with a top class instructor, and he kicked up his heels and said " Thankyou Ma'am...... but I'm really happy as I am!"

Damn, there goes my shot at fame!

Moonbeam, the old donkey stallion who had a broken beer bottle shoved up his rear end as revenge against his owner, is recovering well from the injury. He's picked up condition and settled down well with the other rescues. In a few weeks he'll be gelded together with Thor the little pony stallion, rescued around the same time.

It's such a joy to see his other injuries healing. The scars will never disappear completely, particularly the scarring from the burns on his back and the scarring in his mouth from an ill-fitting bit.

Donkeys are so resilient! I hope and pray that he recovers well enough to enjoy a happy retirement after so many years of hardship.

Thor is more complex. His scars are in his head. Gaining his trust is a slow and painstaking process. Progress is slow. Some days, he seems to want to trust us and yet on other days, his eyes reflect a dark pit of horror and fear.

cannabilism

I had a brilliant day with my horses, watching them play, frolic in the dam and race through their own free rodeos at dusk and dawn!

Some of them are "rideable" and "useable" within the strict constraints of my mutually co-operative ethic.

Sadly, some of them are old and arthritic, but having served people all their lives, they're still contented, eating well... and teaching younger horses how to behave, with mutual respect, around humans!

Should I be sending the old ones away for pet food or human food? And is this cannabilism?

I think that it is.............. feel free to disagree?

How we reward horses today!

I'm disgusted and sick!

The US Agriculture, Food Saftey and Inspection Service is now advocating the eating of horses as an alternative low fat and healthy meat!

All over the world.. Sushi Chefs are beginning to experiment with "basashi"..... raw horsemeat served sashimi style!

Wake up horse breeders!.. and horse-lovers stay awake around the clock!

What we owe horses?

At the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month.....exactly 91 years ago, World War 1 came to an abrupt end.

8 000 000 horses died in that apocalyptic "War to end all Wars"!

Millions of horses still die every year in slaughter houses and "research facilities" world-wide, because most human beings have still not learned to treat man's oldest ally with the respect and reverence he deserves.

You may not be able to make a difference to the total carnage, but you can make a difference to the horses and horse owners that you know.

Prevent irresponsible horse breeding!