If You Give a Donkey a Cracker
She’ll Trust the Universe to Protect Her Offspring While She Asks For More
“Please stop! I want to get out,” I implored. “I’ve got to pet one.”
The cream colored mother, with ears larger than a jack rabbit, allowed me to scratch her neck and approach her offspring as if we’d been friends all our lives. When I walked back to my vehicle, she meandered a few cars down the lane and contentedly munched on saltines offered through an open Ford Festiva window. She left her sleeping toddler standing in the middle of the road — alone! with sightseers looking to get their hands dirty and furry.
As tourists who’d dutifully stayed in our vehicles miles back while observing a bison herd, we were all a bit astonished at the tame nature of these wild animals.
“Can you believe she’s just walked away from her baby?” asked the lady in the blue Pilot.
“That little one is plumb tuckered out,” said a woman with a southern drawl. “It is sound asleep!”
“Well, traffic is moving very slow. I’m sure it will be fine,” I said.
In all, there were about ten donkeys? mules? horselike animals? what is their proper name? milling about on or near the road.
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We inched away from the roadside, passed the sleeping youngster, and watched a family with young children feeding a four-legged, long ear with dark mocha fur. Their offering was orange and crunchy — so much healthier than a processed, white flour, cracker.
“There are signs saying Don’t Feed the Wildlife everywhere,” I said. “What are those people doing?”
Then a wise cracker in my car piped up with, “Aren’t there signs advising you to stay in your car around the wildlife?”
He had a point.
When we stopped into the visitor station, I commented to the ranger, “The (insert pause while I try to come up with the right name — I chose burro over donkey) burros sure are tame. They’re so sweet.”
The ranger sighed through a half smile. I could tell she’d told this story many times.
“We call them the begging burros,” she began. “They were used here as pack animals in the 1920's. When they were done with them, the workers just set them free. You do need to be careful around them. They can kick and/or bite.” (I gave thought to the family with the young kids and carrots.)
“Thanks for all of the information,” I said as we walked toward the exit.
I left the building thinking about teaching burros to fish versus giving them fish and then remembered two things: I was on vacation — and I just got to pet a feral donkey and its little one, with their picture as a bonus.
How cool is that?
“I’m hungry,” I thought. “Too bad we don’t have any saltines. I guess we’ll have to stop for ice cream.”
