So if you didn't hear...I was dragged down the road by a donkey

Okay, in my first boot camp blog I referred to the time that I was dragged (drug?) down the road by a donkey. It was suggested that I tell the story, and since I have a few extra minutes :)

I used to live in the country. I had chickens, cute little goats, ducks (all named Jake), dogs, cats, and I really wanted a miniature donkey. My neighbors had a donkey farm and national champion donkeys- so I thought it would be cool to get one. I mean, so cool that I even spent almost two grand on the creature. He was handsome, a lovely shade of red, and I was hopeful he would be a champion someday.

Making a champion donkey takes a lot of work and time- and let's face it- I'm lazy. I mean, I'm working on it now, but I would much rather be inside watching tv than outside working with a live animal. So, I get up early one morning to take Sundance out for a walk. We walk up our road and practice him on a lead. Now, just because I called him "miniature" doesn't mean that he's teeny tiny or not strong. Trust me. He was VERY strong.

So, we are walking back down the road and he decides to jog. I want you to pause for a minute and realize that he has 4 legs- and I only have 2. This automatically means he can run faster than I can. In addition, we are going downhill- and fast! I get him in control and we start to walk again. That ass decides he wants to run, and this time he goes for it. I am running just as fast as I can, so fast that my legs aren't moving as fast as my body. Do you know what I mean? I'm out of control, and then I'm on my face. All I can think about is the cost of this donkey and that my neighbor lady will KILL me if I lose him. So I hold on for dear life. Finally, when I fear my teeth are going to start falling out, I let go of his lead. He takes off and I get up. I hobble behind him, blood pouring down my face, legs, arms. I'm crying and yelling, "Sundance! Sundance, come back!" Well, I think I am yelling, but I am not doing much good.

Do you know where the little jerk goes? HOME. Apparently, this is why horses die in fires- they go home when panicked (I clearly didn't know this). When I catch up to him he is trying to jump over the fence into his pasture. I grab him, drag him to the neighbor's door, and wake them up. I didn't realize that I needed a trip to the hospital, I just wanted help putting him up. As you can see below, my injuries were worse than I realized, and I had to go to the hospital.

Can you imagine how much fun they had? I was clearly their first case of being dragged down the road by a donkey...I was covered in blood, required 7 stitches in my forehead, had road rash all the way down the front of my body, scraped up knees and elbows, and I had to get a tetanus shot. It was totally worth the great story though, and we got 7th place at nationals (out of 7, but who's counting?). I gave up my donkey career shortly after that experience...