The Braying Donkey

I live in a subdivision.  That subdivision is surrounded, for the most part, by countryside.  Various homes, with well over a few acres each, are scattered about outside my neighborhood.  One of these homes clearly has a donkey in residence.  I’ve never seen the donkey, but I’ve heard him.  Granted, my ears are far more tuned for ‘city’ noises, but I’m pretty darn sure that’s a donkey braying that I hear in the morning.

It’s always early to mid-morning when I hear him.  He’s not as faithful as a rooster, but he’s at least as consistent as the weather report.  I’m always startled when I hear him start up.  I forget he’s out there until the braying begins.  I find myself wondering what he’s braying about and why it’s always around that time of day that he elects to do so.  Did the rooster on that property pass away and in doing so left the responsibility of the morning wake-up call to the donkey in his will?  Does the donkey have some instinctual message delivered to his brain to bray after the sun comes up?  If that’s true, why isn’t he consistently performing this duty each day?

Or, does the donkey have more in common with me than I had ever have suspected?  Some days he wakes up with a perfectly fine disposition.  His water and feed are delivered promptly and he didn’t sleep on the wrong side of his stable.  So he quietly goes about his day in contentment.  But other mornings... well, look out!  Nothing has gone right for the poor guy since opening his eyes and he doesn’t foresee the day improving.  Is it those mornings (when left with no other outlet for his anxiety, stress, or discontent) that he just opens up and lets it all out?  I feel you, dog ---- or rather donkey; I really do.  I, too, have my mornings when nothing is going according to plan and I find myself braying like a jackass.  

~Mari B.