Rubí donkey writes her Tuesday blogue.
Today in my Life Coach case notes I want to relate the case of Aitana and the Biotin. The vet recommended that the Peasant gives her a scoop of Biotin every day, due to the problem she has had for the past five years with her front hooves. The Biotin is supposed to strengthen her hooves.
The Peasant is tryin to give Aitana the Biotin in various ways: first by holdin a scoop of Biotin in the palm of his hand and gettin her to lick it up. Since Aitana doesn’t even eat slices of apple (because they is not a carrot), nor banana skins (because they is not a carrot), nor ends of courgettes (because they is not a carrot), nor the occasional turnip, swede nor melon (because they is not a carrot), it was quite an ambitious project to get Aitana to eat the Biotin out of the Peasant’s hand (because it is not a carrot.) So the Peasant resorted to subterfuge.
He scooped out the inside of an orange (which is not a carrot but it is a similar colour so Aitana eats oranges by mistake) and he filled the orange with Biotin. Aitana eagerly lunged at the orange, then found it was full of Biotin pellets, so she spat it out and ran off. The Peasant filled a kitchen syringe with Biotin mixed with warm water in the blender and syringed it into Aitana’s mouth, fightin to stop her clampin her teeth shut, bitin him or chewin off the end of the syringe. And she ran off. Then the Peasant had a wonderful idea. Matilde eats anythin, and Aitana always copies what her mother Matilde does; so why not scatter some Biotin pellets on the ground in front of Matilde and Aitana when they is not suspectin the arrival of food, and see what happens?
What happens is that Morris arrives quickly, fights Matilde for the Biotin pellets, and Aitana runs off. Most of the time I don’t sympathize with the Peasant becuse it was entirely his fault he’s got four donkeys; but on this occasion I could see was gettin quite perplexied. So I thought it is time to do some deep Life Coachin to sort out the promble with Aitana.
“Hello, Aitana,” I said, in a friendly non-judgmental manner. She was standin by the wall under the palm tree. “How are you feelin today?”
“You’ve got your ears back,” she replied. “That means you’re concentrating. When you’re concentrating that usually means you’re doing Life Coaching at me.”
“No,” I said, “I was simply enquirin in a friendly non-judgmental manner. If I was doin Life Coachin, I would ask somethin like: why is your rear left hoof up in the air? Does that posture indicate some imbalance in your life or maybe suggest you are not proply grounded.”
“There you are!” cried Aitana. “You are Life Coaching me again! I’m not having it!”
“No, like you’re not havin the Biotin that the Peasant wants to give you, as prescribed by Dorothea the vet. Everyone wants to try and do the best for you, but you won’t cooperate. I would just call that completely selfish, if I was an uneducated pleb-donkey and not a portant non-judgmental Life Coach!”
“Bill Gates has put microchips in the Biotin pellets,” said Aitana. Her voice betrayed genuine fear and her rear left hoof drew nervous circles in the air. “Morris donkey showed me on the Internet.”
“Oh no! Has he been introducin you to his horse medication-denial conspiracy websites?”
“It’s all true,” said Aitana. “The microchips in the Biotin are all part of the New World Equine Order. The Great Reset. The Global Plan to Control the Carrot Supply. All of it is being directed by Freemasons and Oligarchs hiding in tunnels.”
“What’s an Oligarch?” Sometimes, as a Life Coach, you need to tease out what the client really understands about the concepts they are usin, to see if they really understand them. And sometimes, you haven’t got a clue what a word means, and the client is one step ahead of you. What a flamin nuisance! I didn’t know what an Oligarch is. “Well, what are Oligarchs, Aitana?”
She looked at the wall for inspiration. “They’re like crocodiles… but like… like a whole wall of crocodiles!”
The Peasant arrived. He was tryin to get to Aitana and give her some carob beans. She eats carob beans (because they is long and thin, about the same width as a carrot) and the Peasant had probably split them and filled them with Biotin.
“Rubí, go away!” said the Peasant. “These are for Aitana.”
I managed to grab one and I chewed it. It tasted of Biotin. The Peasant pushed me away and gave a carob bean to Aitana. She chewed it briefly spat it out and went “Bleuuuuuugh!” and ran off. Silly horse!
The Peasant said rood words and went off to have a beer. I wandered off to lick the fence. The fence tasted of carob beans and Biotin and I began to wonder…
Suppose it was true?
What if Bill Gates really had filled the Biotin pellets with microchips? I would be the first to get eaten by the Oligarchs…
I took up position lookin down into the valley. It is all a load of nonsense, but I’d better keep alert, just in case they are comin.
You never know.
Since the Peasant is banned from commentin on the schismatic paranoid anti-Pope site “Catholicism Pure and Simple” (sic) I has commented for him. Moral theology is not really my field. My field is the top terrace or if the Peasant puts our straw on level 2, I eat down there. But there are times when a donkey has to step in and tell the rad-trad loonies they is out of the ball park with the moral argy bargies.
5 thoughts on “Horse d’oeuvres”
Rubi, I am sorry that you have this worry. No donkey should have to worry about oligarchs. Your story about Aitana does not surprise me. There has always been a battle between humans (peasants) and their companion animals over medicine. Personal experience ranges from cats which drew (my) blood over a simple pill, to rats which pulled out the stitches placed by a caring and careful vet to close their wounds. And there were no oligarchs to be seen anywhere! I promise. And Bill Gates had nothing to do with it either. It is just the way animals (and some people) are, so please relax and look for a tasty morcel to chew. Let your peasant worry about the oligarchs. That’s what peasants are for.
Thank Liz of the Bracknell. I am mostly reassured but as a portant professional Life Coach, I think I need to just spend a bit more time bein paranoid, so I can identify with my client Aitana and empathise about the Oligarchs. Maybe I’ll stop bein paranoid at breakfast in the mornin as paranoia brings on indigestion anyways. If ever you needs a Life Coach for the rats I am available and does a cheap rate for caged clients. Thank you.
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Rubi, as your senior I feel impelled to tell you that I have always thought you are out
standing in your field.
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Hello Bruvver Burrito, and I’m not standin in the field becuse it’s night time, but not a moony night so we is all in the stable, lurkin meditatively. They deleted my comment on the ROOD cathlic blogue after I writtied it, so that’s another reason they is in schism.
Doris Pfizer reporting for duty. Anyone need a fake Prime Minister? I can introduce you to a Kremlin sockpuppet for 500,000 pounds and a few rolls of John Lewis wallpaper.