The diary of a rood norty Morris

Hello, this is Morris. I’ve given Brother Lapin such a run around this afternoon that he is too tired to write the blog, so here is a guest article by Morris the rood and norty donkey.

Since I was separated from the jennets a couple of weeks ago, I have carefully weighed up the situation and decided that I should concentrate on the water buckets. If there was one chance to get out of my confinement and shag the jennets, it had to be while Brother Lapin was fussing about cleaning the water buckets.

Perfect timing! Straight out and chasing down Matilde. She’s in season, as luck would have it, and she puts on a stupid grin to show me she’s all ready for a bit of rood and norty Morris…

Here we go then. Jump up and away… At last I’m the right height. Aitana’s showing an interest too. Brother Lapin is shouting at me and hitting me with a stick. I just love that part of it. Being hit with the stick is always the most exciting part.

Here’s Matilde with her silly grin. It’s always obvious when the jennets are in season, as they just look like they have been told the funniest joke in the whole history of asinine humour. Brother Lapin hits us with the stick again to break it up. We both kick him and he keeps his distance. Oh what larks we had…

And now, for the first time on the internet, Morris the Superjack shags two jennets at the same time. Watch out… Here comes that Lapin with the big stick again. There’s only one important big stick around here, ladies! Drat! Outwitted and chased back into my end of the field. Too late. Morris the Superstud has probably made at least two jennets pregnant. Woof! Woof! Now where’s my alfalfa…? If England footballers could only play like Morris, they wouldn’t end up in a penalty shoot out.

Morris has now done his penance: a six kilometre return trip to Finestrat, through the valley shortcut, wearing the pack saddle for the first time. Ten kilos of water ballast.


About Gareth Thomas

After a mixed career as an aircraft technician, London fringe theatre playwright, Franciscan friar, and secondary school teacher, I find myself dividing my time mostly between looking after the needs of four donkeys in a remote location in the mountains in the Costa Blanca and preparing a legal case against the corrupt management of my monstrous last employer - the Elians group - for unfair dismissal. I like to hear the wind in the pine trees. I do not like struggling to get a duvet into a duvet cover. My musical tastes are extinct and I have mostly given up cycle racing.
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6 Responses to The diary of a rood norty Morris

  1. Barbara says:

    I thought that Morris was a Catholic ? When will he do penance for incest and probably adultery?

  2. Frere Rabit says:

    A timely comment, Barbara. Morris has now done his Catholic penance and has walked to Finestrat and back for the first time, wearing the pack saddle and about ten kilos of water ballast on the hottest day of the year (38 degrees.) Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition.

    (See updated blog post with photo.)

  3. Kathy says:

    Seems to me that Brother Lapin needs to take more care when he is cleaning buckets! Can you get a morning after pill for donkeys?

  4. Frere Rabit says:

    I don’t know about a morning after pill, but I have been unsuccessfully searching the internet for donkey incontinence pants. Do you know anyone who is good at knitting?

  5. Kathy says:

    Silly Rabit – who is it who always mends Blankie. Just ask Ratbag :-}

  6. Frere Rabit says:

    Excellent idea. I shall ask Ratbag immediately whether she is able to knit incontinence pants for Morris. Should go down well as a new topic in the Staffroom.

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