A few years ago...when I had asthma rather than COPD...and a quick inhalation of the wonderful Ventolin was enough to get me breathing again...I used to go with a friend when she trimmed horses and donkeys hooves.
She wasn't a farrier...but a simple foot trimmer.
And she twisted my arm to come along and give her a hand when faced with awkward or stubborn animals who wouldn't stand still and lashed out with their rear legs...
One day she arrived at the doorstep to say would I ever come to the other side of Sligo where a chap had thirty donkeys...he'd bought them as a sort of job lot, straight from the bog where they'd been roaming about, unattended for a long time.
So we turn up at a nice bungalow with well-kept gardens and a very cross woman on the doorstep. She was very cross indeed...folded arms across her bosoms sort of cross.
We lit a rollie each and puffed away for a few minutes and your woman scowled some more and eventually we got out of the car and approached her...wafting ciggie smoke away with our hands and stuffing Polo mints into our mouths.
Your man who'd bought the donkeys had gone out fishing she said...like it was our fault...so we said never mind...we'll manage between us and she said there was no way she was getting involved, thank-you all the same.
So we gathered up files and clippers and such like and went to the yard where the donkeys stood looking sullen and cross and we heaved heavy sighs and made a grab for the nearest. It lashed out with both back legs and we leapt for it's halter and I patted it on the nose and it bared its teeth and went to bite so I stuffed a carrot in its mouth. I always had carrots and ginger nut biscuit's about my person. And Rose grabbed a back foot and hung on like grim death and we sort of careered around for a bit while the other donkeys whinnied and neighed and the one we'd caught had hysterics...and your woman stood by the fence with her arms stilled folded across her ample bosoms and announced...loudly...to no-one in particular...'wild enough aren't they?'
Rose let go eventually, of the one we'd caught, 'cos she couldn't run fast enough to keep up with silly creature.
Then we managed to catch a dear little female...she was so small and had a sweet face and huge brown ears and I managed to put a head collar on her and she stood quiet enough and Rose picked up a back foot and the dear little donkey swung her head round and buried her teeth in my thigh.
I swore...I swore words a navvy would have been ashamed to say out loud and your woman tutted loudly and flounced away and I yanked my jeans down to display an enormous bite mark going dark blue...
We silently gathered up the hoof files and the nifty little tools for getting stones out and we lit another rollie and I pulled my jeans up and we went back to Roses car and drove home.
Molly Went To The Vet...
I went out!
Thought I would just share this with you
I love Harold!
