Who's Your Daddy?

Last summer, my donkey Flash (the stray who came to stay), decided to go looking for love among the neighbor's band of horses. I was unaware of his escapade until the local sheriff showed up at my door at 1:00 am.  Here's an excerpt from my post about it:

I hear two vehicles pull up:  one complete with flashing lights on top.  Two big guys in uniforms get out (starched shirts stretched taut around their middles, just what you'd expect), along with another guy in a truck.

"Ma'am.  Sheriff's Department." They flash a badge.  "You own a donkey?"

We had noticed that Flash was missing the day before, but just didn't have time to track him down.  I actually checked the sky for circling buzzards, thinking maybe his carcass was laying out there in the pasture, and when I didn't see any, I just kept movin' on.  Hey, I had a lot to do.

"Well, this gentleman says that your donkey has gotten in with his female horse, and uh.  Ma'am, he says ya'll are gonna have a baby MULE on your hands."

At this point, the man in the truck stumbles over, and says "Yeah, yore donkey here got up into my corral where I was keepin' her away from my stallions and by the time I got over to them, they was layin' down smokin' a cigarette.  The deed had been done."

The sheriff guys turn to me and say, "Are you going to pick him up tonight, or are you going to get him in the morning?"

Getting Flash home was another adventure.  But the following months went by with no sign of a pregnant mare and no phone call from my neighbor, demanding payment for vet bills or child support, so we breathed a sigh of relief.

That is, until late spring.  The neighbor's horses were put into the pasture next to ours and we noticed one mare who was decidedly pregnant.  Mercy, she was huge.

"You don't think....?" we speculated.

Naah, couldn't be.  Besides, that mare wasn't the mare we thought Flash had had his romp with.  This girl was much darker and taller than we remembered.  Flash's girlfriend was the other one, right?  But we kept an eye on her just the same.

And then in early August, I happened to be talking with another neighbor, the "Lagniappe" lady. 

"By the way, did you see the new baby horse next door?  He's absolutely adorable!" she said.

I gulped.  I counted back the months to the infamous affair and knew that the timing pointed suspiciously to my long-eared Don Juan.  But still, the fact that the mare's owner had two stallions on hand for just such services, and the fact that the dark beauty had gotten so enormous convinced me that Flash was off the hook on this one.

I ran to the fence to check out the new arrival.  And one glance told me all I needed to know.

Oh, baby.  I know just who your daddy is.  Those ears give it away!  

And your muzzle.

And those big ol' eyes, softly circled.

That "pinned-on" tail is the coup de gras.

Honey, you're a mule and your daddy is that smug donkey in the next pasture.

Which brings me to this month's devotional verse.