Yesterday, I lost the Eight Years’ War, in which, against overwhelming odds, I had doggedly fended off the suggestion that we should add equines of some sort to our vast and ever expanding menagerie.

Horses. Ponies. Shetlands. Mules. Fallabellas. You name it, if it has four legs, a mane, hooves, and a face like a horse, then it’s been on the list. The blandishments have been many and inventive. I’ve been offered things I couldn’t possibly mention in a family publication if only we could just find room for these adorable little miniature horses or whatever.

But then George and Buttons arrived. Donkeys. About 4’ high at what I now know as the withers. Very charming looking chaps, with a stentorian bellow that echoes round the valley, and bottomless appetites for grass and carrots.

Very charming looking chaps, with a stentorian bellow that echoes round the valley, and bottomless appetites for grass and carrots.

I have to say I can see the attraction, although I remain nervous around them – never have liked horses. Judging from the flood of responses to Sarah’s tweets and facebooking, most of the western world is aware that we now have donkeys, and what a wonderful thing it is we’ve done.

So I suppose I just have to share in some of the glory. My contribution is to have the most luxurious stable a donkey has ever owned built at the bottom of their field.

It turns out of course that there is a complication. There just had to be one. They are both what us equine owners call ‘intact’. And when a donkey’s intact you certainly know about it. Testicles like cannon balls, and a todger that brings sharply to life the phrase ‘hung like a donkey’. Unfortunately, the advice is that all this will have to change or we will have problems. I am pleased to say that this is Mrs B’s job not mine. I don’t mean she actually has to get down on her hands and knees with a scalpel and perform the operation herself (although with her obsession with all things veterinary it wouldn’t surprise me if she did), but it is nonetheless a complicated (and expensive) process.

Still – there is one upside. I won’t have to pay to have their 10 acre field harvested because their appetite for grass is monumental. And they seem to do a good job of hedge trimming too!

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