Poxy Fucking Donkey ....!!!

This evening, I went down to the stables. The unthinkable, coming to feed the ungrateful.

Everything's going according to plan. Chucking hay in the feed lines. BANG!!! It was like I'd stopped one from Sir Henry Cooper! Right on the fucking chin too!

  Thank fuck it was, thinking about it. No glass jaws here then. But, if the stupid bastard had caught me on the nose? That would have been jam! Eye? I'd have had a shiner they'd talk about for bloody weeks!

  Stupid fucking donkey! Pretty well good as gold, all these years. Suddenly decided to demonstrate his Reverse Head Smash! Fuck Me, that hurt! Still does, come to that, couple of hours later!

  Prick stood on my foot, a while back. Yes. Foot. Steel Toe Caps are no fucking good when an idiot like him treads on ye upper Foot! Bastard. 

That's it. I think he's up to something. Kicks me in the balls next? I'm shooting him ~ a couple of weeks later. When I'd be able to fucking breathe again!

  Bastard!

 

Pony Has His New Friend .....!!!!!

  I'm So chuffed, for him! I honestly don't know what else to say, really.

 I just sat on Pat's shoulder. Leaning the weight and easing off, as I felt his moods swing with the other things  in his head at that moment. Seems I got it right!

 Last Saturday week was the local horse sale day. We went there. First thing I saw was a drop dead gorgeous, gray donk. Absolute ringer for the bible picture ones. Cross on the back?

 Five minutes later and Pat's asking me about the self same creature! I agree that she (And it was a She) is fucking gorgeous. I'm just wondering about the little, chocolate brown, thing that's sticking so close to her ..... Till it dropped a 1/3 grown, fifth leg! Jack! Forget it!

 Frankly? There were one or, maybe two others there that had My eye. But, come the actual time of the Donkey Sales? I was completely smitten with this heart breakingly gorgeous little pony foal ~ Keep repeating mantra: " No More 'Horses'! No More 'Horses'! "

 Pat', meanwhile, had got a call, telling him that there were four jennies up for grabs, on the way home. So, the big, black jen' slipped us by. I dragged myself away from that To Die For little pony. Self harming all the way. We decided to gamble on the four.

 Fine looking four too. Pat' and I simultaneously eyeballed one, in particular. Much talking out the sides of mouths ensued. I had a swift commune with the candidate. Meaningful glances and barely perceptible nods were exchanged.

 £50.00 later, we're bowling down the road. Pony's new friend to be in the little horse box we were dragging behind.


 Well, that was, what? Just short of two weeks ago. Pony was absolutely fucking ecstatic to meet his new friend ~ though She was a little less forward in reciprocating his delighted enthusiasm, at first. Well ..... At least for the first ten minutes that I stood around.

 Long since then, they've become inseparable. And I've ~ quite deliberately ~ curbed my daily visits, to feed Pony his 'biscuits'. I see myself as their God Father. Pat's their Dad. I didn't want to 'compete'.

 So, I've popped up each two or three days. (Granted, I've barely known what to do with myself on my 'off' days!) Tuesday, Pat' invited me up there. Offering me a lift into town. I got Donkey to actually touch the biscuit I offered her, with her mouth. Then she shied.

  Today? She took several biscuits from my finger till I'd run out,  in fact

  Not sure Pat's got her eating out of his hand yet. I'm gently working on him too though .....
 

Pat's Buying A Donkey .....

 Met Pat , on the track, the other day. Tells me he's buying a donkey. Seems his female pony died and now the male's alone. Horses hate being lonely.

 I fucking coveted that pony. She was gorgeous! Chestnut fur and a golden mane. She'd never let me near her.

 " Pony ", as I know him? Same fur. But, a redder mane. Good as gold. I gained his trust in no time. We'd hang out and commune together, over the fence. While the female stood back a bit.

But, Pat soon came to rely on me to lead them. He couldn't get near either. I'd just give 'Pony' a minty biscuit, Kiss his nose. And chat to him as I led him absolutely where ever he needed to go. Female pony following him.

 Pat bought these two for his daughter(s), back in the day. I guess, like kids do, they just ..... I dunno. Ponies got 'relegated'. Just shifted from field to field. No good to anyone. Just an obligation.

 I'd have killed to have brought them down here. And what? Gone bankrupt, trying to feed them hay? Had their little feet adding to the destruction of the acre Pat lets me use for my own 'horses'?

  Anyway, she ~ Pat's female pony ~ went to absolute rat shit, virtually over night. This is the way. I was stunned, when I last saw her. It was like a sixteen year old had gone eighty, over night. Now she's dead.

  And, Pat said he's buying Pony a donkey, for company. A female donkey. Because the male one, living alone near him, shouts its fucking head off, all day. Drives Pat mad. Lonely donkey, see?

  And I'm aghast. Just how much money has Pat got?! Female donkey?!  Fuck!!! When I bought Donks, my bare yearling, male donk? He cost me £300. And that was straight down the line what a Male donkey cost ye, then.

  Female Donkey? £1,500!!! Faaaarkk!!!! And Pat's gonna buy one, just for company for Pony?!? Fuck!!! I'm all for fetching Donks and us breeding some donkey. Get a female? Fucking jack pot!

  I say this to Pat. He looks at me, " WTF?! " I look at Him; " What?! "

  And this is where my harshest lesson in the reality of the rotten stench of the decomposing corpse of the long dead Celtic Tiger comes in.

 I bought Donks, £300.00, fair going rate for a male donkey. Yeah. But, that was six years ago. When a female donkey was £1,500.00. 

 Checked the free ad's paper, on line, last night. Female donkey? £100.00!!!  

 I was saying in the pub, today, how I was  going home to slap my worthless donkey around. Tell him what a useless, worthless, expensive hay munching machine he was! Costing me a fortune, just to be there.

And spy on me, in the 'morning', when I came out. Peering through the gap, waiting for his breakfast. Shouting his fucking head off, for his supper, when I came home at night. Chatting to Rosie, while I'm not there.

And, yeah; I admitted, in the taxi back home ..... Any silly cunt ever turned up offering me £1,500 for my Donks? They'd be out of luck. He's My worthless, hairy skin full of shit. He's mad as fuck. And I love him to bits. Mad fucker's Priceless, to me.

Can't wait to see what Pat ends up with. A fresh packet of minty biscuits is on my shopping list. (These are special, made for horses, minty treats, by the way) I just Love these creatures :-)

From The Mouths Of Strangers .....

  Just 'Pimping' my gorgeous " Rosie " here ;-) 

But, it's all true.

 Went into town today. Steve's got some guy in the motor already, second fare. Guy hops out the front and gets into the back when I appear. Thus he's pretty much shut off to my hearing. Me being clinically deaf as a post in my right ear.

 Did my stuff, in town. Called Steve to fetch me back here. This guy's, coincidentally, still in the back seat. No matter.

 So, as we pull up at my place, Rosie and Donks are on the field. Earlier, I imagine, they'd just happened to have been down, out of sight, in the paddock.

  Then I've heard the guy roaring: " Oh Jesus! Look At That!!! That's fucking Beautiful! And will ye Look At the Back on it! Christ! What Condition!!! "

  Even as I'm quietly murmuring that yes, that's my Rosie. My pride and joy, the guy's just fucking beside himself. He even got excited over the condition of Donks. 

 Steve ~ who seriously knows his horse shit ~ was in agreeance. 

 Me? I was all warm and cuddly. Just absorbing, and deeply appreciating, the Respect being bestowed upon my beloved Rosie by guys who've probably forgotten more about horses than I'll ever live to fucking learn.

  

    Best bit is, as they pulled away, so Rosie, recognising that my coming home meant supper time, came galloping down the field. Her gorgeous mane flowing as her feathered feet thundered. She Was Breathtaking!

  I knew they'd both be watching her. And, yeah; My heart filled with love and pride.
 
 

Jim O' Brien As St. Patrick .....

" Craic ", Defined in a Shot!

Just Look at that photo. To me, this is the quintessential image of St. Patrick's Day in small town, rural Eire. I mean, just soak up the sheer Fun in that shot! And. all around me, people were Roaring with good natured laughter at Jim, bless him, looking such a cunt!

Jim's the landlord of my 'Local'. A solid bloke. His wife, Phyll' is 'Probably' the loveliest natured woman in all Ireland. What a pair they make. Phyll' being surrogate mum to all who could use one. Jim playing the firm but fair, more distanced and detached, Mien Host.

And, one day a year, he lets them dress him up like this, drag him round the streets in a donkey cart, and he laughingly 'Bestows His Blessing Upon' all and sundry daft enough to get too close! Absolutely Fantastic!