We haven't much of a story to tell, being just a man and a donkey, but one thing's for sure: he, being a dumb animal, needs some looking after. It's no wonder his species has become the symbol of brute foolishness to us. I've had him for 25 years, and there are times when I wonder if he's learned anything in all that time.
I remember once that we had to go to town to get food for the week, and the creek had overflowed into the form of a river that we were obliged to ford. I was ready to go across, but he was so fearful of being swept away by the water - as if I would let that happen. I tried to pull him towards the river, but he dug his heels in and refused to move. I tried shouting, but nothing I did could induce him to change his mind. I was so frustrated. I know they're the apotheosis of stubbornness, and our kind insult each other by calling each other members of their kind, but this was just silly. How does he expect to eat if he gets so narrow-sighted that he can't think beyond what's right in front of him? But that's the way with them - reason plays little role in their actions; just instinct and impulse. That's why I wish he'd just follow me a little easier sometimes. One of us has to think a little farther ahead, and clearly it's not the one who lets fear or whatever other animalistic whim pops into his consciousness decide what course of action he's going to take. Anyway, I sat down with him for a time, and when I thought I'd given him long enough, I walked calmly into the river, the rope pulling him almost incidentally behind me, and this time, he followed. He must have had some confidence instilled in him when I led by example.
All my frustrations working with him notwithstanding, I have to admit that living with him has endeared him and indeed his whole kind to me. Dispositionally, I'm not really drawn to any of the species of our biodiverse world but my own, of course. But there are some glimpses of goodness I see in him. He doesn't always outwardly emote like we do, but I read a certain tenderness in his base personality. It seems to incline him towards loyalty. Like if he were taken from me and had to work with another - I'm certain he would feel reluctant and unfulfilled with their connection, having already forged a rapport between donkey and human with me. And that gives me a certain fondness for him.
Plus, there's a hardiness about him. We've been through some rough seasons together. But he never seemed like he was ready to call it quits, ultimately - even when food was scant and our work was hardscrabble. He persevered. And once we'd get through what we needed to, and things were good again, he would always seem insouciant and content, as if the hard times were never there.
That has taught me one thing about his kind that inspires me that maybe our kind can be that way: he is stronger and can withstand more adversity from life than even he himself has ever realized in his lifetime. He has an aplomb, a poised wherewithal in his intrinsic nature that he always returns to after his moments of obdurate panic, which shows an incomparable fortitude that is I think ineffable, given his brutish weaknesses.
I truly must admit, as dumb a beast as he can be, as stereotypically stubborn as he always is, as incapable of reasoning beyond his immediate feral drives, he really has some admirable qualities that fill me with awe. And now I think well of his entire kind because of it.
But what do I know?
I'm just a donkey.
Simply amazing
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