I am a donkey. I live with my donkey son Morris and my donkey friend Matilde (who has a daughter Aitana who is a bit of a silly horse) on a donkey farm called El Parral in the mountains near Benidorm, the capital of Spain. We have a Peasant who looks after us: he brings our food, sweeps up, does odd jobs, and helps put on our Santa hats for the annual Christmas photo (as we can't put them on ourselves.) Once every eight years I bray. The other donkeys bray too often: if you don't have anything new to say, I can't see the point.
#RubíTuesbray on #Asstodon Episode 2: Morris complained to me: “Rubí, the Peasant only feeds us one carrot each morning now instead of two.” “It’s the #CostofLiving,” I said. “I read his #CarrotWatch posts last week and carrots are more expensive. But I have a cunning plan. You’re handy with a screwdriver and a hammer, aren’t … More Burro de Change
Part 1: A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Donk The earliest memory of my life as a young donk in the foothills of the Sierra Bernia in Parcent, is my donkey mother swaying to the sound of the flamenco tablao from the Restaurante La Piscina*, nextdoor to our big stable full of donkeys. … More “Yes, we Asno Bananas” – the Rubí autoburrography
The Peasant has gone out for the day. We like it when he does that because he leaves us extra food, just in case he comes back late. He told Morris he is going to Calpe bookshop to collect the new addition to our stable #libraybooks, so Morris is very excited as he has run … More The Rubí Tuesbray blogue
Rubí donkey writes her #RubíTuesbray blogue. Yesterday was definitely Monbray. Although it was not a normal Monbray, as Monbrays go. It was a quite confusing Monbray and I don’t want a Monbray like that again for a very long time. Prolly not for at least fifteen years. Anyway that means today must be Tuesbray and I’ll write … More Rubí and the Golden Fleece
Rubí donkey writes a seasonal blogue post about celebrating the traditional Boxing Day with a family argument “What are the derangements for Boxing Day?” I asked. Morris was just emerging up the slope from Level 2 after checking that there was no food left over from Christmas Day. We were waiting for the Peasant to … More The Elephant in the Stable
Equus Asinus 