It’s those dark and soulful eyes that get to me, along with the soft braying reserved only for me. It is a kind of mind control.
Maria insists that the donkeys have hypnotized me, and I can’t really deny it.
Today was a good example. I drove into the driveway, parked the car and headed to the farmhouse. The car was maybe 20 yards away.
I heard the bray and waved to them, “not now girls,” I’m busy I said. The soft braying continued, and I turned to look, which is always my big mistake.
Fanny upped the braying a notch, and Lulu came closer to the gate, all the easier to turn those big eyes on me. Still muttering, I pivoted and head to the barn. The brays were soft, not harsh, sweet, and alluring. Much like “get on over here, big boy, and give us a treat…”
The donkeys nudged closer to the gate, the braying continued. I pulled open the garbage can containing their oat cookies and walked over to the gate.
I felt in the grip of forces much more powerful than me. I just kept walkie, the transformation to donkey zombie was underway.
My left hand and my right hand were now full of cookies, I put one flat hand full of cookies out to Lulu, and the other to Fanny. Lulu is the leader, she gets the first batch.
I just kept going towards the barn, even though I muttered darkly when I got out of the car that I wasn’t going to take the bait now, I could resist two donkeys.
But I didn’t resist. Again. I was standing by the gate listening to them crunch happily on their cookies.
I love to stand and listen to the sound of their quiet crunching, and then I go back to the house, wondering once again why I can’t say no, hardly ever in 15 years, despite ticks, mosquitoes, horseflies, heat, snow, cold, and rain.
I think it might be those eyes. Or some donkey voodoo. Donkeys have been around people as long as dogs, if not longer. They have picked up quite a few tricks in their time working and living with human beings.
Every day, I am hypnotized by donkeys. They have the key to my brain.