The horses and burros have made themselves at home in the neighborhood. Sometimes they are beyond the fenced perimeter; sometimes the just walk through the gate. The search for green and edible is ceaseless, especially after a very dry ‘rainy’ season. The desert can be a harsh place for range animals.
On our morning walk, Buster and I encountered the burro in on one of the large undeveloped lots. He was chewing on some tree leaves, but when he saw us, he hurried in our direction.
“This is one big animal,” Buster whispered under his doggy breath.
Buster alternately went close and pulled back, not quite sure what to think of being so close to the large long legged, tall ears, fuzzy tailed mammal.
The burro is hobbled – his front legs are tied together – and so he can only take tiny steps or hop. While I understand that this supposedly keeps him from running away – clearly he already has run from wherever he started – it pained me to watch him struggle to walk. His buddies, the other burro and the three horses plus new pony, could be heard braying and naying in the distance near the dry arroyo.
When Buster realized that the Burro was not likely to charge him, he stepped closer for a better scent. I advised that he not stand toooo close to those hind feet, which I know can still wallop a kick. After a few sniffs at the adjacent ground, and a few ‘good-morning-to-you-burro’ barks, we continued on our early walk.
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