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I was reminded recently of the very reason Pete and I began raising miniature donkeys years ago,
and it came in the form of a letter from an 11 year old boy named Cody Bartlett. Randy Bartlett,
Cody’s father, showed up at our door one afternoon wanting to see our donkeys. He told me that he
was looking for a miniature donkey for his son who has dreamed of owning one after falling in love
with a miniature belonging to one of his neighbors.
After deciding that there really wasn’t a need for
him to spend his money on a more expensive jenny as he had originally thought, we looked at two 6
week old jacks, either of which would make a wonderful gelding for Cody. Randy saw Skeeter and
Walter, but decided that this needs to be Cody’s decision. I sent Randy on his way with information
and pictures for Cody to review. To my surprise, the very next afternoon Randy and Cody both
were headed to Franklin, a distance of 90 miles from their home, to see Skeeter and Walter. When I
was introduced to Cody, I fell in love immediately with this dimpled little boy with a smile from ear to
ear and a very familiar gleam in his eye anticipating seeing the donkeys. It was at that moment that I
saw my asking price for Skeeter and Walter free fall to whatever Cody could afford. I was
determined that he would go home with his dream. He showed me his notebook on miniature
donkeys that he had hurriedly put together the night before with the information and pictures I had
given his dad. I WAS IMPRESSED! He had already been on the Internet and read everything on
miniature donkeys. Cody had become so knowledgeable about miniature donkeys that I thought
about asking HIM questions until I realized that I was supposed to be the professional here! We
talked donkeys for 2 or 3 hours. Nothing was as important to me that day as making this little boy
happy. We visited all the donkeys including Skeeter and Walter, he looked at how he needed to
arrange his pens, he wanted information on showing and asked if my husband Pete would help him to
which I graciously volunteered my husband’s services. (Wives can do that, you know? It’s in the
marriage license- in fine print!) Then came decision time. He went to look at Skeeter and Walter one
more time. I realized that he already knew in his brain what he had decided in his heart earlier, that he
and Skeeter were the two pals fate had destined to be together. Randy took pictures of Cody and
Skeeter, me and Cody and Skeeter, Barney and Skeeter, Barney and Skeeter and his mom Mindy,
then more of Barney, me, Skeeter, Cody and Mindy. When the film ran out, Cody and Randy left for
home with a forlorn look in Cody’s eyes because September, when Skeeter could go home, was
centuries away to Cody.
Shortly thereafter, I received a thank you note, then a picture drawn by
Cody of our ranch complete with the barn up the hill, our donkeys in the pasture, and our big entry
sign. Receiving that letter caught me aback. Although I realized before I opened it that I had enjoyed
the pleasure of sharing one of my precious little donkeys with a precious little boy, I had forgotten
that this is exactly the reason why we got into this “business” in the first place. It caused me to
remember the thrill I first had when I saw my first miniature long ago. I was just like Cody (only
decades older!), but with the very same excitement. I hadn’t experienced that kind of anticipation
since I was a kid getting ready for Santa to come the next morning.
What a shame it is that we grow
older, work hard, buy the big houses and fancy cars, the RV’s, the boats and second homes, and
NONE of these things gives us the thrill that we had when we wondered if Santa was going to
remember the pogo stick, the chemistry set, the Roy Rogers guns and holster, and the dollhouse.
NONE BUT THE MINIATURE DONKEY! When Pete and I decided to get into the business (for
us, it’s more like running an adoption agency!), I was a child again, feeling the same kind of
anxiousness about time that we did when our mothers said that we had to go to sleep because Santa
was on his way and would be here in the morning. “In the morning” is how many hours Mom? “In the
morning” is too long a time for a child to understand. Well, a middle aged woman anticipating the
arrival of her first donkey, “In the morning” is too long a time for me to understand as well. I couldn’t
stand the fact that my babies had to be weaned. Just like a child, I wanted them NOW, just like I
wanted Santa to come BEFORE “In the morning”. I lived on every word out of the mouths of the
breeders from whom we bought our first donkeys. I hung on each little snippet of a story about our
babies. I was jealous of the fact that THEY got to see MY donkeys everyday and I didn’t. How
unfair! I took pictures and took them out continually, showing them to people who couldn’t care one
fig about the misery I was in. I dreamed about holding them and playing with them and growing old
with them. Then came time to pick up my babies. As in all those Christmas Eves of mine so long ago,
I HAD to go to bed because we’d get to bring our donkeys home “in the morning”. Why couldn’t I
stay up and wait for it, for Santa, no I mean for “in the morning”? Because I’m a grown woman and
I’m acting like a child, but I can’t help it. I haven’t been this excited about something in so long. The
purchase of our dream home in Houston was exciting, but I could sleep the night before we closed
on it. Buying our ranch was a thrill, but not like this. Anyone can own a home or a ranch. They’re
things and things can lose our attention rather quickly. This is different. I’m going to own a little piece
of God’s creation in the form of a walking bundle of love and companionship. I knew that the first
time I saw a miniature donkey and it has proven to be true. It took a letter from Cody to remind me
that I’ve had lots of “In the mornings” now. Each time I wake up to find a new foal or go to sleep
knowing that tonight is the night Belle is going to have her baby, that’s an “In the morning”. When I
go away for a few days and see other donkeys at other ranches and want so desperately to be home
so I can love MY donkeys, that’s an “In the morning”. Or when a Cody Bartlett crosses my path and
forces me to get caught up in his wonder over the donkeys, that’s an “In the morning”. We must
NEVER forget why many of us, not all, but many, were drawn to these precious little donkeys.
Because they bring out the feelings of “In the morning” that we thought were lost forever when
college and career and life took hold of us. We owe them for showing us how wonderful and magic
“In the morning” can be. Thanks Cody. By the way, you can pick Skeeter up “in the morning”.
-- reprinted with permission from the author, Carolyn Christian
Update: Cody recently took his donkey to
his first donkey show where he placed
second his very first time out! WAY TO GO CODY!!
