Welcome Everyone!

His luck changed a little when they grew tired of their 'pet' and decided to get rid of him. Most likely, a neighbor complained about his bray. What ever the reason, a 'Free Donkey' sign was scribbled on a slab of card board and propped up along the front fence. That's when I first met him.

We saw the sign and decided to stop and take a look. A typical female, I'm duty bound to investigate anything 'free'. Reggie was standing in a paddock with a large pinto stallion. Judging by Reggies shyness around the stallion, it was rather obvious who was the boss. He was a jack, but not desirable for breeding due to his small size and his conformation. But, there was something about him that was irresistible. He was so calm and gentle. He completely trusted me. Un-haltered, he allowed me to pet him and pick up his feet. I walked behind him and checked him all over, even rubbing his ears. I spoke to the owners and even though they spoke little English and I spoke even less Spanish, an agreement was reached. I had 20 minutes to get back home, grab a halter and arrange to get this little guy home. If I failed, the owners would be out of town for a week and what ever happened to him happened. Twenty minutes later, I was walking down the street with a completely unknown animal in tow.

The walk home was surprisingly uneventful. I doubt he had ever been on the road before or had ever seen a vehicle, but not even a noisy UPS truck frightened him. I knew then that he was a sensible and trainable animal. Now, don't get me wrong, but it was NEVER my intention to keep him. I was still in high school at the time and was working two after school jobs in order to help support the animals I already had at home. An additional mouth to feed was most definitely not in the budget.

As I stated, I had two after school jobs........ training donkeys. I worked for two local women who had larger, domestically bred donkeys that they used for show. Competing in the American Mule Association shows, these two donkeys that I worked with had won numerous classes and year end titles. I thought that surely one of my bosses would want a free donkey. Especially one as calm and gentle as this little guy. I thought wrong. They looked at him and his small size and immediately deemed him worthless. "Too small" they said. "Terrible conformation" they said. "A Jack!?" they exclaimed, "Your crazy!" My first attempt at riding him landed me squarely on my rear end. Suggestions as to what to do with my new 'friend' ranged from taking him to the auction, sell him to the killer, to taking him and tying him up to the dog pound at night. Reggie stood in my back yard for a couple of weeks, surrounded by my goat and sheep, not to mention numerous chickens and ducks. Quite frankly, he simply completed the portrait of a typical barnyard scene.

One of the donkeys I worked with had won two year end awards that year. On the day of the awards banquet, I received a call from the owner, stating that she had given my ticket to her husband. A year of hard work was to be honored that night, without my presence. I was heartbroken and angry. I didn't scream or cry, after all, what good would that have done? Instead, I went outside and looked at my very own 'worthless' burro standing in my backyard. Training began. I was determined that next year, it would be he and I accepting the awards. For work done on my own animal, not someone else's.

We started slow. Reggie had been so traumatized by his early relations with humans that he would run away and hide when you entered his pen. I was given 'orders' by my mother not to work with him if she wasn't home. Seems the stories of 'killer' jacks had made her worry about his reliability. What can I say, I was 16 years old and invincible. Going against her orders, my after school hours were spent sitting in his corral talking to him, just letting him hear my voice. After about two weeks, I started brushing him while he ate, leaning over his back in the process.

It only took about three weeks until I was able to place a snaffle bit in his mouth and climb aboard, bareback. I never asked him to move forward. I only asked that he turn his head when I pulled the reins to the left or to the right. He willingly obliged. At the end of thirty days, I was able to ride him around his corral. Guiding him around the peach tree and chicken coop with the reins. The last weekend of the month, much to the surprise of my mom, I took him into the front yard, hopped on and rode off down the street.

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After that initial month, Reggie and I were inseparable. He was my buddy, my companion. He had placed his trust in me and I trusted him. My farrier was able to come out and do his feet. Kneeling down on his hands and knees, because of a bad back, my farrier was completely safe. Unlike some one of the other donkeys, Reggie did not need to be scotch hobbled for his feet to be handled. Since he was not considered quality jackstock, we had him gelded. Sometimes, due to his disposition and trainability, I regret having done it. But, in the long run, I think it was for the best.

It soon came time for his first show. The first show of the season was in March and he was still very fuzzy with a winter coat. Plans to body shave him were made. Again, the warnings came from left and right. "Make sure you scotch hobble him." "Make sure you have your vet sedate him" "You'll get killed if you try to do it alone". Imagine their surprise when they drove by and saw Reggie standing groundtied in the driveway, an extension cord running to a pair of large animal clippers and a pile of black fur encircling him. Oh...did I mention that when they drove past, I was clipping the insides of his ears? My secret? Rice cakes. Reggie has a weakness for them. Give him a rice cake, he'll love you for life.

We went to our first show in March at the Los Angeles County fairgrounds in Pomona, Ca. We were entered in one class, Donkey Pleasure (English/Western). We were all stressed and fidgety. None of us knew what to expect from him or how he would react. The show ran off schedule, forcing our afternoon class into the night time hours. Now, anyone who has donkeys or has ever worked with them knows what happens when the sun goes down. Even the most mundane object becomes a "certified donkey demon". The crowd, restless from the late hour, found great comedic relief in our performance that night. I thank goodness that I chose not to have that one captured on tape.

Our next show was far better. We had only worked him for pleasure classes, never the trail class (obstacles). The Los Angeles County town of Lancaster was the back drop for our second public debut. Eight burros competed that day in Donkey Pleasure and Donkey Trail. The results? Pleasure, a respectable second place behind a seasoned veteran in the show ring. Trail? Third place. Not bad considering he had never seen a gate or a bridge in his life. We also entered him in the Donkey Driving class, even though he had only been hitched a handful of times. He did well, but out of four, we placed fourth. Simply competing and being obedient was enough for me that day.

As time went on, Reggie became better and better. Soon, it was Reggie that was known as "the one to beat" in the show ring. Our rocky start at the first show and an injury to myself that prevented our competition at a crucial event, cost us the year end title. But, we did force people to stand up and take notice of the 'worthless' little burro.

All of this happened nearly twelve years ago. Since that time, Reggie has been named "Grand Champion" at the County, Regional, National and World levels. When I started out, it was simply to 'get even' for a perceived wrong. Now, I think if Reggie as an ambassador of what donkeys can do. After his second year of competition, he has gone undefeated in Donkey Trail. Even at the local shows where we are competing against Quarters and Paints, he is still in the top three placings. I've had horse owners sneer at me when we walk up to the arena, then follow me to apologize, all the while commenting on how well trained he is. When they ask me how I trained him to do things, I simply tell them that I didn't train him. He trained me.

Now, near 18 years of age, Reggie lives in my pasture. With his donkey companion, Cappy, always at his side the two of them test the patience of the horses they share the pasture with. Reggie is still very healthy and we still make an occasional public appearance, usually a Christmas parade or two. Keep an eye out for him, perhaps you'll see him around some day.