I enjoy most invitations – to lunches, parties, weddings. However, sometimes folks ask me to unusual gatherings, such as drumming circles (decline), meditation groups (yes), remove invasive fish species from streams (sorry, I avoid slime), hike 50 miles around a mountain (an ecstatic accept).
The other day I received the strangest invitation of all: to attend a donkey castration. I knew the guest of honor, Gabriel, a mischievous young guy at the desert wild burro rescue sanctuary where I loved to visit, one hour outside Las Vegas.
I grinned with constant amusement at Gabriel’s antics. While his herd-mates lay down, resting, he would nudge them, wanting to play. One day, he licked their shoulders and back with his rough tongue, a behavior the manager said she’d never seen a donkey do. Gabriel loved people’s boots. To my surprise, while I stood next to him, stroking his back, he gently encircled my hiking boot with his big mouth and lifted it up. I knew donkeys had powerful muscles, providing strenuous labor during much of human history. For a moment I panicked, as this strong creature now had possession of my foot, mid-air, and I knew he could mash it to pulp. His giant teeth pressed on, what now felt like the thin leather of my boots. The manager knew Gabriel’s jokes and assured me I was safe. Sure enough, he carefully returned my leg to earth amid our giggles and my relief.
The sanctuary, full with one hundred beautiful equines, could not support a breeding program. Desert burros, descended from African asses with beautiful stripes adorning their bodies, were known for high fertility rates. Hence, Gabriel’s coming ordeal. Why wouldn’t I attend? After all, some groups of humans gathered to celebrate circumcision: in that sense, I had received a gracious invitation meant to bring all those who loved Gabriel together in support and compassion.
I deeply enjoyed my human friends at the sanctuary. I learned that human and donkey limbic systems in the brain were the same size. One of the functions of this primitive area was a deep ability to bond with family and friends. I felt more emotional ties with Equus Asinus than I ever had with horses (which I’d ridden for much of my life).
I adored Gabriel and could not bring myself to see him suffer. My friends attending the castration promised to take pictures, which I hoped not to see. There are some invitations I couldn’t accept no matter how much I loved the mortals involved.
Real Life – Real Laughs:
Humor When You Need It Most
Cate Burns’ thirty-eight non-fiction stories of heartfelt humor explore society’s foibles and personal snafus with insightful zingers that will delight readers. Burns casts an unstinting, cock-eyed look at personal change, friendship, sanity and courage.
“Absolutely LOVE the descriptions in this work. Very, very, very clever and, dare I say it? -unique. This is refreshing, funny, inventive and delightful.” -Sharon Whitehill, Ph. D.
