George (the donkey) was caught trapped in the flower garden tonight. I heard him bumping around below my window but I first thought the sound was Janet pottering about doing things with plant pots and then decided it was a donkey outside the garden gate trying to get into the garden for some mischief. Too late did I realise that somehow he had got into the garden and then, amazingly, had pushed the gate back, shutting himself in. Gilbert was still left outside the garden, desperate to be inside; “where George goes, there go I” attitude, as usual.
George was after the wild bird food in the feeder. The donkeys are so obsessed with stealing food that they will go for anything edible and they have plenty of volume of their normal food and at this time of year they have green grass, plus they always get a supper treat at their stable before bedtime every night. George has eaten some seedlings, young plants and flowers which is a real shame. Including two of the "Fox and cubs" - which is a bit like a dandelion but orange. And some sweet cicely. He was caught just about to eat a rosebush - they don’t care about thorns of course.
It’s now gone 9 o’ clock (UTC) and we are both in bed with three or four cats keeping us company. Just now a friend next door has told Janet that the donkeys have escaped and are looking for adventure on the road; someone unknown has left a gate open. Janet now has to get out of bed, having already got unto her nightwear, to go out and call them back in. The donkeys are very good and they always come when they’re called. There’s perhaps the expectation of a treat or some fuss or both. I hope Janet does give them a treat, so as to reinforce desired ‘good boy’ behaviour, Pavlov style.
