That Orange Thing.

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.

Humans dream up the darndest things

What do you suppose this might be?

Well, silly Woman thought it should go on my delicate and sensitive pastern. Where does she come up with such nonsense? I patiently obliged, as is my genial nature, and waited for her to finish amusing herself and take it off. I even walked around a little to show her what a good sport I am, although I couldn't help stepping extrememly high with that foot - it just seemed like I needed to be stepping out of some annoying tangle of debris.

So what did the crazy Woman do next? She attached a ROPE to the thing! The dumbest thing I could imagine! Does she simply LIKE to see me trip and stumble? Good heavens. I'm tolerant, but this is just a bit much. Woman says I need to learn to "not fight" the rope, so when we go to the mountains I'll be safe and stay in camp. I demonstrated my "learning not to fight" it by standing still and refusing to move for most of an afternoon. What does she think, that I'll panic like some crazy horse?
Oh Please.
Sometimes I just don't know about her.