All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
The Two Donkeys
They stood pressed against each other as if they were one, their jellybean-shaped bodies merging into a single being. Their patchy hair was the hue of arena sand under a cloudy sky, offset only by the mocha-brown shading on their muzzles. Their tails were nothing but ragged strings of an overused washcloth: scraggly and short.
A car horn blared down the street, and they flicked their jackrabbit ears at exactly the same moment. Once the sound ceased, I clucked to them. “Donkeys, c’mere!” My lips pursed as I kissed to them, petitioning them to look my way.
No response.
Frustrated, I slipped through the poles of the silver fencing and scuffed through the stale dirt until I was about ten feet away. I continued calling and clucking as I crouched down, my eyes level with theirs. Already I felt the glare of the sun on my neck.
A hoof shifts.
Startled, I glance upwards. One of the donkeys has pivoted her right front hoof so it points in my direction. The left front follows. I kiss as loud as I can and trill, “Donkey, come to me!”
An ear flicks in my direction.
I tap my tongue against my teeth and wait. The second donkey hasn’t even looked in my direction, so I shuffle closer. She finally turns her head to meet my eyes, but the first donkey hasn’t budged since her front hoofs shifted.
One step.
I stand up and face my back to them. Sometimes an animal, especially those of the equine family, is intrigued by a turned back. Closing my eyes as I continue to cluck, I extend my palm in back of me and wait. My throat is parched, and I swallow uncomfortably.
Two steps.
Although the dirt is soft, I can hear hoofsteps atop it. Eight hoofs are slowly, slowly, approaching me from behind. I splay my fingers and hope.
A soft muzzle.
My hand instinctively cups around the velvety warmth of the first donkey’s muzzle. She lets my rub her poll as I extend my hand to the second donkey. She is more hesitant, but eventually presses her muzzle into my fingertips. I scratch the side of her neck. I feel their heat through my palms as I breathe in.
They stood pressed against me as if we were one, their jellybean-shaped bodies merging with mine into a single being.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.