Chapter Two
Spike,
Jack and Jill
Three pairs of eyes watched him from inside the
darkened garage as he approached.
Well, that’s what the Mayor called it: a garage. But the owners of the eyes knew differently
– it was their bedroom! None of
the other animals came in there, not the cows, not the deer, not the birds nor
the bees. Not even the great big
green alligator that lived down in the muddy pond. Well, maybe the occasional
spider made a web way up high, but that didn’t matter.
“Well, well, well, I declare!” said the Mayor chortling,
“If it isn’t you three in here still.”
Walking out of the dark corner of the garage, two
of the three pairs of eyes became visible: donkeys! They ambled up to him and the Mayor with their damp noses.
“Well, hello Jill,” said the Mayor patting the
mother, “Hey Jack,” he laughed as the baby pushed under his arm sniffing for a
treat. “Bless your heart, you’re a
nosey so and so, aren’t you?” he said still laughing as he fished out a little
treat for each of them.
“Aw, c’mon Spike, come over and get your treat
now,” he said to the largest of the three who’d hung back. This was the father and he was always
on the lookout. It was his
responsibility to protect the mother and baby Jack. “It’s OK, there’s no one
around,” said the Mayor gently, “I won’t tell anyone that you had a treat this
morning.”
That was all the encouragement Spike needed to trot
over and gobble up the sweet treat.
“There you go! Now wasn’t that delicious?” said the
Mayor rubbing each donkey in turn and even though donkeys don’t smile, he knew
they were smiling and happy by the way they waggled and flopped their long
furry ears back and forth, back and forth.
Jack, the baby, butted the Mayor’s hip and snuffled
at his pocket again.
“Hey!” laughed the Mayor, “you are a hungry little
fella, aren’t you? OK here’s one last treat and then it’s time for you to go
find your own breakfast. Go on now!”
And with that, the three donkeys clopped out of the
garage, well, their bedroom, and headed off for their morning bath.
To the side of their bedroom, (the garage), much to
the Mayor’s indignation, they had dug out a great big patch of sand. This was their bathtub! One by one, daddy going first, they
dropped down on their knees, bent their back legs and flopped over onto their
sides. Very soon they were rolling
around in the sand, feet straight up to the blue sky, spraying sand everywhere
just like you in your bubble bath.
They scrubbed their backs and their sides and “hee-hawed” with delight.
“Well, bless your little donkey hearts, I sure wish
you wouldn’t do that right here,” grumbled the Mayor smiling a little,
“couldn’t you move it down to the other end of the field?” he said pointing
down yonder, shaking his head.
“Hee-haw, hee-haw,” brayed Jack and Jill
together. Then, in a great big
show-offy movement, Jack kicked hard and rolled over tossing a huge clump of
sand into his mouth. He coughed
and spluttered and the Mayor roared with laughter as little Jack jumped up to
his feet shaking his head and coughing up sand.
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Unless otherwise noted, all articles are written by Cath Rathbone. (Copyright Catherine (Cath) Rathbone and Noony Brown)