Last March, Paco the Poet was kind enough to post his thoughts on the blog about....the bridge.
Paco believes there are multiple black bears living under the bridge, and also thinks that if you step on it just right, it will fly off like a magic carpet and the bears will be hanging on from below-the danger being they will eat the magic carpet and any donkeys on top of it will fall to the ground.
He truly believes this.
So, once again last week I began letting the flock go to the upper hills, which requires going over...the bridge. All the donkeys happily paraded over without a thought, all of them except for our dear Paco. I did my usual training with him, even enticing him with Fig Newtons.
"No, and get off the bridge!" he yelled to me, "Bears like Fig Newtons too!"
So for the past week, Paco has been left behind in the lower pasture, and he watches his friends as they gallop up the steep incline, disappearing into the burned out earth of August. Every few hours, he lets out a bray, reminding everyone,
"I'm still here! Don't forget to come back down!"
That was rather sweet, but heart breaking to watch. At the same time, he has had special duties while waiting in the bottom pasture. When the flock comes down to drink, about four times a day, it is Paco who now becomes the guard. He takes it all very seriously.
I knew eventually the day would come when he'd make it over.
And that day was yesterday. We saw him coming down the hill in the afternoon with the herd so knew he had made it. I ran down with my camera to capture the big event. Years from now when Paco is one hundred, I will show him this photo and let him remember how brave he was to conquer the bear infested stream.
