Day two started off with a starling reminder as to why chickens and sleeping late don’t go together. The rooster started at 5:30. Luckily I went to bed around 9pm and was ready to get back to reading in a vain attempt to go back to sleep. While the chickens roused me from my sleep, it was the booming otherworldly bray of the resident burrows that scared the shit out of me and shocked my system full of adrelenin. I’ve heard donkeys bray, it’s a funny, odd sound. But this was the noise that sound editors choose when they want to convey a creature so terrifying that it would make you pop your cyanided pill. (Not sure if you saw “Contact” but there is a scene where they give Jodie Foster’s character a cyanide capsule for those terrifying alien torture methods us earthlings can’t imagine”. And by the way, those terrifying aliens would sound like these burrows. One makes a sort of sad squeaky bed spring noise but the other is a deafening resonating honk with slo-mo, high pitched squeeking and squeeling.
I should also note that the one that makes the horrible noise is kind of a jerk, kicks the other one and is a hunchback. Their life is pretty boring, they stand around and eat grass with the occasional human, dog, fox or snake to bray at. My guess, the quiet one has normal donkey intelligence and the jerky has superdonkey intelligence, and his cry is a reaction to his sad life as a hunchback donkey.
Once we acclimated to the noise, I got out of bed, made some coffee and sat outside to watch the sun rise. The owner was out working (feeding the fucking donkeys) and let Quincy out. Quincy and I bonded yesterday and he immediately curled up around my bare feet, let out the most content doggy sigh, and watched the sky color with the morning.
1 comment:
You, my dear, are what I refer to as a cityit and your commentary on Donkeys pretty much proves it. Cityit (short for city bred idiot, and although not yet recognized by Websters dictionary), would be a term to describe the small minded, isolated thinking of most that live in a city that are living a euphoria so out of touch with reality there is little hope for any return of common sense. I'm glad you didn't take the time to do any research on Donkeys or chickens because it just goes to prove the definition provided above. Even though I'm reasonably certain it will enlarge your head considerably and help fulfill your thoughts of self importance, I found your moronic rantings attached to a google search of Donkey intelligence. You really should try it yourself.
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