Hello, I’m Rubí and this is my Rubí Tuesday blogue. Today we begins a portant series of blogues on Envirionmental Enrichiment – or how to make a more intresting place for a donk to be. Some peasants think an enrichied envirionment just involves plonking a crucifix in a meadow. We shall see there is more to it and we will show you how to form a donque action group.
Thanks to Morris donque, who has been researchering portant documents on the interwebby thing, we donques are now in possession of the Donkey Sanctuary advice on Envirionmental Enrichiment. From a donque mental wellbeing perspective this is the best thing the Donkey Sanctuary has ever produced.
You can find it here on the interwebby thing: https://view.pagetiger.com/EnvironmentalEnrichmentforDonkeys/EnvironmentEnrichmentfordonkeys
On my Rubí Tuesday blogue in these next few weeks I will be taking you stage-by-stage through how to form an action group and help your donque keeper implement this portant doquement. The doquement looks like this:
Every donkey keeper should be aware of this helpful report and here in El Parral we invited our hermit-Peasant to a meeting. Morris donkey wanted to do this as a virtual meeting on Zoom, which seems very fashionable at the moment, but Matilde overruled this, understandably as she is part-Andalusian. She says, “It’s about time we smashed up all this technology which is responsible for the mess we are in.”
Aitana disagreed: she was looking forward to a Zoom meeting as she thought it would be another opportunity to be spotted on television and become a superfoal-celebrity on Love Island. “I wouldn’t regard any enrichment below 100,000 euros as worth getting out of bed for!” she said.
Silly horse!
So we summoned the Peasant to the meeting in the stable and after setting out our demands for a more stimulilating envirionment we went take a look at the situation. At the end of the session, the Peasant fell asleep on the rubber tyre and buckets, thus proving our point.
So, the starting point must be this. Is a plastic bucket or a rubber tyre as stimulilating an envirionment as living in the wild in Africa? Obviously we don’t want an over-stimulilating envirionment. We’d prolly be better bored than eated by lions.
Something better than a rubber tyre and plastic buckets is what we is demanding in our action group.
Next week: Envirionmental Enrichiment Part 2: “Something more exciting than plastic buckets but not involving any lions.”
Equus Asinus 
I am looking forward to seeing what Rubi has planned… That Morris spends too much time on the interweb (“Silly fool!”)… Aitana reads too many copies of Vague and watches far too much Chicken TV (“Silly horse!”)… and Matilde dreams of being a pantomime cow (“Silly moo!”)… The Donkey Sanctuary information looks like great fun for Donks!
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Watch this space: there will be something swinging between the Gemelos pine trees soon. Inspired by rams…
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A particularly good game after a few pints of Youngs, I imagine…
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Oooh… that reference is a bit unfair on the blog’s remaining two dozen readers (mostly in Spain and the USA). The Ram Brewery used to be where my favourite Young’s beer was brewed. The brewery sadly sold a long time ago to capitalise on the high value of the land in Wandsworth. The much missed quality and easy availability of a pint of Youngs in London belongs to a fast-disappearing world.
I said after that last march for a People’s Vote that I would never go back to London after Brexit and I meant it. London belongs to the world of memory now and it can stay there. The last pint will always be that Fullers ESB in The Admiralty pub Trafalgar Square, after the Sorolla exhibition at the National Gallery. Impressionism, a steak & kidney pie, and a pint (or three) of Fullers ESB with your good company: a good way to remember the last visit to London.
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It certainly was a very fitting way to round off the weekend and our last time in London together.
Bearing in mind Matilde’s liking for flat Estrella Galicia, I wonder whether the Youngs horses were ever offered a taste of the bitter that they were tasked with delivering!
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Well, I vowed never to go back to London long, long, long, long, long, long, longlonglong before Brexit, in 1956 after the London smog, when we used to live in the middle of the road in a rolled up newspaper; we got run over by trams in the middle of the night, and only had two spoon-fulls of gruel for breakfast. And you try telling the young people of today and they just don’t believe you!
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