They have discovered what a lovely thing she can be when she’s in heat. They A.I.ed her last week, and left a phone message that she was “a damned hussy”. Well.... can’t say we didn’t warn them.
Mom has had the opportunity to speak with them since the hussy message and had this story to relate. It begins a couple of years ago at their last farm on the opposite side of the county. They had recently moved there, in what can only be described as some of the prettiest, quietest rolling farmland in Pennsylvania. Shortly after their arrival, they discovered that a neighboring Amishman owned a jackass. And said jackass would bray repeatedly, especially when there was a mare in heat. Now anyone who has had the pleasure of living in the same neighborhood as a jack or a mule (even a miniature donkey) can tell you that braying, much like a barking dog, can get on your last nerve. That rusty heehaaaw can carry a good long ways. In fact, that was one of their few complaints about their new neighborhood. They were quite pleased when the Amishman sold the jack, and peace returned to the valley.
Fast forward to last week when Copy came into heat. They have since moved to a new farm, on the eastern side of the same county, but at least 20 miles as the crow flies. They were laying in bed one night when in the distance, they heard a familiar voice. “HeeHaaaaw-HeeHaaaw-Hee-Haaawwwww”. They would know that voice anywhere. It was that damned jackass. He now lives in this neighborhood. Terriffic.
When Wayne got up in the middle of the night (remember, he switches turnout groups at 2-3 a.m. so every one get’s fly free turnout) to get the mares… no mares. He went to the back of the pasture where Her Highness hides out. No mares. Copy had broken through the fence and taken her two mare friends with her on a love quest to find the Jackass. It once crossed my mind that I might like to breed Copy to a jackass to get a five gaited mule baby. I decided it would be in poor taste, and her previous owner said she thought Copy would be offended if the the foal was less attractive than her beautiful self. Apparently, she was wrong. Copy was on her way to find a suitor.
Fortunately, they live in rather rugged country, and Wayne found Copy and the mares at the foot of a steep gravel bank. Copy was dedicated to her mission, but a mountain stands between them, and it remains unrequited love. When Mom told the story to my step dad, his reply was… “doesn’t sound too out of the ordinary to me. Loose hussys get out and are bred by jackasses every day.” At least in our town.