Page 108 of The Nanny and the Beefcake
Slowly, Bob lifted the latch. With the metal door creaking, the donkeys called out, stomping and shuffling. They knew the drill. The burros whinnied as he opened the gate, and then they were eye to eye with the animals.
“Wow.” Sebastian breathed. “I’ve never had pets before.”
Maud climbed into the trailer, hushing the restless creatures as she untied the ropes that kept the burros from moving around.
Libby studied the animals. How long had it been since she’d seen an actual donkey? It wasn’t like you could find them traipsing around downtown Denver or in the ritzy streets of the Crystal Creek neighborhood. It must have been years ago before her mother had gotten sick. They used to visit a petting zoo in the city—when her father still acted like a father and when the man used to gaze lovingly at her mother. It was almost incomprehensible how much he’d changed since those days.
She tucked the bittersweet memories away and observed Plum. The animal had a gentleness about her, a knowing stillness Libby had once recognized in herself.
“Libby, take the lead rope and guide Plum out of the trailer. This sweet Jennie has done it before. She knows the way,” Maud directed.
Libby focused on the animal as Maud handed her the rope. Plum regarded her with soulful, curious eyes and snow-white eyelashes.
Bob glanced up at the darkening sky. “We may be getting some weather, so Plum might be a bit hesitant with the shift in the temperature. Little things like that can throw her off. Be firm but gentle, Libby. Patience is the name of the game when it comes to getting a burro to comply. Frustration won’t get you anywhere. Remember, the donkey knows.”
The donkey knows.
“Let’s get you out of this trailer, girl,” Libby cooed, tugging on the lead. The burro turned her head and brushed her nose against Beefcake like she didn’t want to leave without him. “He’s coming, too, but first, you need to walk this way,” she said, reassuring the animal. Plum looked her over. It was as if the donkey was reading her and assessing her energy. “You’ve got this, Plum. Let’s do this nice and steady,” she said, taking one step back, then two, then three.
With her hooves poised at the edge of the trailer, Plum nodded as if the animal comprehended the request. It was a slight movement. Perhaps, it meant nothing. A fly could have buzzed by, and that was the donkey’s natural reaction, but it felt like more, like an understanding had passed between them. And with a deftclip-clop, Plum emerged from the trailer.
“Wham, bam, check out Plum and Libby Lamb,” she whispered, stealing Raz’s phrase, as a heady sense of victory had her beaming.
“You did it, Libby,” Sebastian chimed and patted the donkey’s neck.
“That felt incredible. So empowering!” she declared, scratching between the burro’s ears.
“You did good, kid,” Bob said with a tip of his hat. “There’s nothing like passing that first test.”
Libby’s expression dimmed. “That was a test?”
“I’d reckon everything is a test when it comes to working with animals. They see right into your soul. Sometimes the connection happens immediately. Other times, it’s like dancing with a new partner. You’ve got to feel each other out a bit. But I’d dare say that Plum’s taken a shine to you,” the man replied with an approving nod.
“I’ve certainly taken a shine to her. How old is she?”
“We estimate Plum is six or seven years old,” Maud said, patting the Jennie on the rump.
“Like me,” Sebastian replied. “What about Beefcake? How old is he?”
“Our best guess is that he’s a bit older—or maybe it’s his crankiness that makes him seem like an ornery old beast,” Maud answered as the large Jack released what could only be described as one cranky whinny.
“We think he’s eight or nine,” Bob added, then turned to Raz. “You’re up, Erasmus. Now, be careful. Maud was right about Beefcake. He’s a beast.”
“My dad’s a beast, too. They call him the British Beast. He’s a really good boxer,” Sebastian bragged, staring at his father like the man could do no wrong.
Libby observed Raz. The moody beefcake barely cracked a smile at his son’s adoring words. If this kept up, she’d be having words with the human beefcake—and there wouldn’t be any gentle coos or reassurances. No, she’d lay into him.
“We read about your dad on the internet. Are you ready to see these two beasts meet?” Maud asked the boy, gesturing from the British beefcake to Beefcake.
“I am. Are you excited to meet your donkey, Dad?” Sebastian asked when Beefcake released another shrill call.
“Sure,” Raz answered, cringing as he stared at his donkey equivalent.
“Move slowly but deliberately,” Bob cautioned. “Beefcake is no fan of riding in the trailer. I can’t say I blame him. You try staying upright in a metal box that’s bouncing around.”
Maud handed Raz the lead rope, and the man gave a sharp tug. But Beefcake wasn’t having it. The burro shrieked and reared back. A muscle ticked in Raz’s jaw as the donkey stomped, pounding the floor.
Look at that. The asses were two of a kind.
