Rubí was my first donkey. When I went to Parcent on the other side of the Sierra Bernia looking for donkeys, nearly four years ago, Rubí was the two year old donkey who stood out as the real charmer. I bought her immediately. Here is the blog post from that day in December 2010.
It was the Feast of the Immaculate Conception. Unknown to me, Rubí was pregnant with the foal that would eventually be called Morris.
Over the years, Rubí has always been the donkey in the background. She is a true Eeyore: always facing awy from the others, and me, gazing into the distance and wondering if it is Tuesday.
In the morning at first light, the donkeys gaze up at the house and bray for their breakfast. The first thing they get is chopped carrots and Matilde, Aitana and Morris stand around snorting and stamping in expectation. Meanwhile Rubí is usually at the other end of the field, ignoring the whole sordid business of carrots, and looking into the far distance watching the sun come up over the Mediterranean. That could provide a valuable clue whether it is Tuesday.
When the first two donkeys arrived in March 2011, Rubí proved quite a character from the start. We had the famous local incident where I was marooned in Finestrat overnight. This was due to Rubí refusing to walk home in fading daylight.
In four years I have learned to understand Rubí’s funny little ways and work with her. She is a very affectionate donkey. She will not walk through the valley path to Finestrat because she arrives at a particular spot on the path and decides it is too dangerous. (Crocodiles? Imminent earthquake? Who knows what goes on in Rubí’s head?)
Rubí is not always quiet: at times she goes quite wild.
And then there was her foal Morris…
It’s a confusing life for a poor Eeyore donk, and maybe she will never know whether it is Tuesday.