Remember this?
Well. It's back.
Yeah. Only THIS time, she TIED the END of the ROPE to a POST! Can you imagine? And it was buckled around my pastern!!! 'Huff.'
I argued. I struggled. I tugged, pulled and then yanked. I tried pulling backwards, sideways, even turning around and walking directly away from the post. (That was a bad idea - I almost fell down when my front leg went under me. How embarrassing!) I tried holding my foot up really high, and shaking it really fast... I even tried biting it.
Finally, I was just mad, and I just stood there and fumed.
After everything else failed, I did my most Heartfelt, Plaintive and Mournful Bray. (That involves lots of creaky squeaking build-up with a few extremely long and miserable bawling wails at the end. It almost never fails!) Girlchild relented and started bringing me handfuls of grass (which I was standing in...) but Woman just smiled at me and kept raking the flowerbed! Well. I was certainly not going to give them the satisfaction of giving in and actually grazing. (Now Bubba, who was also "practicing", as they call it, happily ate every clump of grass within reach and never fought the shackle at all. He has absolutely no pride. It's embarrassing to be his friend sometimes.)
Good heavens. The things a burro has to put up with.
