All the sounds were there that perk our ears every early morning. Birds chirping, still flying from one wild plant to another in their constant browsing for daily nourishment. Vehicles humming toward us or from behind us, shooing us quickly to the side of the road. Whisking traffic sounds reached us, too, from the main highway a few miles distant.
Everything was in its place, that is, except the donkeys. Most often spending their time at the far end of their grazing area, they had grazed themselves closer to the tempting grass near the fence by the road.
Some time ago a neighbor had brought two donkeys home to bray in his field on the back road. It wasn’t long till a donkey baby joined them. A while later one little, two little, three little donkeys had become five.
Discussing them as we walked past, Walking Partner became agitated that she had lost a glove. Looking around and turning back to search for it, we laughed to see that she had one on her hand and one in her pocket.
Not to be upstaged by WP’s senior moment, I, who had dressed warmly for the weather, suddenly felt uncomfortable about the legs. Feeling the snugness of my long underwear as I walked along, it rushed through my mind that I had forgotten to slip into my baggy sweat pants. A quick look reassured me that they were there, a little too long but saved from dragging the asphalt by elastic.
Anyway, I knew without a doubt that WP would have informed me if I had, in fact, been without pants. With a chuckle, the nightmare was explained to WP.
With a chuckle of her own, she let me know that she never pays any attention to what I throw on my body.
On second thought, back to the donkeys, that count of five might be too low. They aren’t the only Jackie Patooties on the back road.