FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The rain pounded down on the roof of the rented Dodge Neon, turning to misty steam as it pounded the hot purple paint. Norman Blackburn peered through the mud that the rain and dirt were making, the rented auto's windshield wipers smearing it in tidy arcs. "I can't see much, Grace," he told his wife.

"Damned Americans," she said, as if it were somehow the fault of the U.S. that it was raining, on their vacation in Florida. "I don't see why they drive on the wrong side of the road." Grace unfolded the Florida map for the fifteenth time. "There should be a town just ahead. Can't you drive faster?"

Norman pushed his foot harder on the gas, making the Neon's engine rattle. He didn't really feel it was safe to drive faster, but didn't want to provoke Grace- the trip was already miserable, the most miserable one that they had taken in their twenty year marriage, and after the junket to Mexico last year where their hotel had burned down that was saying quite a bit. The airplane flight from London to Miami instead of Orlando- site of Disney World, their ultimate destination- had only saved a little money, but Grace had insisted, as she had insisted on renting the cheap Neon instead of a proper car, and on driving on the side highways. "The turnpike toll is too high," she'd complained- though paying the $10 USD would have saved them at least two hours on the trip.

Just as suddenly as it had started, the downpour stopped. There was an enormous bridge ahead, that rose at least fifty feet into the air. "Why do they have all these bridges?" Grace asked, as if Norman were an expert on Florida highway construction.

"Perhaps to go over the canals," he suggested. The Neon rattled even more as it struggled up the bridge, and as they crested the top the 'check engine' light came on. "There seems to be a problem," he said, letting off the gas and letting the sedan coast.

"You should have rented a better car," she scolded, though Norman had no say in the matter. As they reached the bottom of the hill, the Neon's engine sighed, as if tired of it's life, and fell to silence, accompanied by several other warning lights. There was a small town- as Grace had noted. "This is Indiantown," she said, reading a large green sign by the side of the road. "Stop up by that diner."

There wasn't much choice- with the engine stopped, Norman guided the small car into the parking lot of one of the fast food chains- a 'Mc Donalds', festooned with signs demanding that one 'SuperSize it!'. Norman thought silently to himself that Grace needed no such prodding, as she was already quite supersized, but said nothing.

"Call the rental company for a new car," she ordered. "I'm going to go inside and get something to eat." He had no time to respond, as she'd already slammed the door and headed in.

Norman looked about- there were no pay telephones immediately visible, but one was in front of a shabby looking market across the highway. There was no traffic- everyone took the nearby turnpike- so he was able to amble across the street, which was already drying in the heat. Only Grace would insist on going to Florida in August- it must be a hundred degrees and a hundred percent humidity. The phone on the front of the market had a sign that read 'out of order- use phone in back'.

He walked in. The market featured dozens of stalls where a variety of vegetables were being sold, along with assorted used items that ranged from absolute junk to near worthless, chipped cups, ugly lamps, and worn furniture, used and rusted tools, and a variety of farm equipment. "Pardon me, but can you direct me to the telephone?" he asked a heavyset man, who smelled slightly of whiskey.

The man didn't speak, but gestured toward the back wall, where a sign read 'restrooms'. Norman walked back, finding the pay phone, and dialed the rental agency.

A cheerful recorded voice answered. "Thank you for calling Superior Rental car. For English, press one, for Spanish, press two..." After four minutes of frustration, the agency had arranged for a replacement car- it would be a half hour, but they'd have one sent out from West Palm Beach, the nearest city of any consequence. He hung up, heading out of the market, glancing at the wares. On an impulse, he stopped at a table where a tired looking dark haired woman sold vegetables. "Have you any fresh carrots?"

She looked at him, a strange warmth in her eye. "Always. The very best."

He bought a bunch, munching on one as he left- she was right, he thought, the vegetable was delicious. Outside, the clouds were gathering again, promising a further rainstorm.

He heard a loud crashing noise nearby accompanied by loud swearing, and turned to the side of the market, where several tents were set up. Two men were trying to push an animal into a trailer that was hooked to a truck; the beast was resisting. Norman had always been accused by Grace of being a softhearted animal lover- and of all the things that she had pronounced as fact, this was one that he was secretly proud of. He walked over to view the commotion.

One was the heavy man he'd seen before- he was pushing on a donkey as a thin man pulled. The donkey stood, legs locked, and refused to move, despite the swearing and pushing. "Damned bitch," the big man said- quite inaccurately, Norman thought.

"Tell me, chap, what seems to be your problem?" he asked.

The fat man looked for a minute like he'd start swearing at Norman. "Damned donkey won't get in the trailer," he said, stopping pushing and walking to the trailer's side. The donkey took a moment to relax, but the big man returned with an effective looking whip. "Now, we'll see."

"Slaughterhouse closes in an hour," the thin man warned. "Hurry up, or she'll be in the trailer all night. I ain't puttin' up with this crap again tomorrow."

Norman was horrified. The animal was to be taken off and killed- he'd realized this sort of thing happened, and mentally accepted it, but to see it in person... "You can't mean that. Why would you butcher such a lovely animal?"

Despite their aggravation, both men burst into laughter. "You gotta be off your rocker. This thing, lovely?" The donkey wasn't in the best of shape- her coat was matted with manure and smelled slightly of urine, she was thin, and sported numerous scars.

Norman felt a bit ridiculous and was about to turn away, when the donkey turned and looked at him- her eyes met his, as if pleading for life. Guilt washed over him- am I such a coward as to walk away and let her die? "Sell her to me," he urged the men.

"You're kidding, right?" the thin one asked.

"Fifty bucks," the bigger one said. "That's what I'd get for dog food."

Norman fumbled with the American money, giving the man two 'twenties' and two 'fives', and the thin man handed him the lead rope. "Have fun with her, pal," he said as the two walked to the truck trying to contain their laughter. Norman stood by the jenny, the two watching the men drive off in the truck, the empty trailer rattling behind it.

He suddenly realized his predicament. He was on vacation, in a different country, and had just purchased a rather battered and smelly donkey. Worst of all, Grace was sitting in a fast food restaurant, and her biting commentary would be worse than anything else he could imagine. He slowly walked across the street, the donkey trailing behind him at the end of the lead, and into the McDonald's parking lot, where a tow truck was depositing a lime green sedan to replace the disabled purple one.

A small crowd of onlookers had already gathered, attracted by the tow truck's flashing yellow lights, and their attention was immediately diverted to the interesting sight of a tourist leading a decrepit donkey around. One could always spot a tourist in Florida by their pale skin and strange tropical clothing- the natives tended toward blue jeans and T-shirts; tourists always seemed to wear flowery Hawaiian shirts and Bermuda shorts, to better show off their thin legs and knobby knees.

Grace was already moving her considerable luggage from the purple car to the green one- she believed in traveling with enough clothing for any eventuality; doubtless there were winter jackets packed along in case a glacier was to hit the tropics. "About time you...Norman, why are you dragging that filthy beast around?" She dropped a suitcase to the ground- Norman recognized it, the one that Grace kept her beauty kit in.

"Dear, you may have broken your makeup," he said, hoping to divert the conversation. "Let me pick that up for you." He realized it was a tactical error, as the donkey moved close to Grace it pinned it's ears back.

She waved her arms at it, looking something like a windmill. "Shoo, shoo! Norman, this thing stinks! Get it away!" She backed away slightly, abandoning her makeup, trying to get out of scent range of the animal. "Go take it back to wherever it came from. Better yet, just let it go."

A few members of the growing crowd of onlookers snickered at the sight- the thin tourist, his chubby wife, and the donkey, which positioned itself between the two and suddenly began to bray loudly. Norman felt miserable- no matter what he did, Grace would complain the rest of the trip. The donkey pressed her shoulder against Norman, frightened by Grace's antics, and turned to look at him, her brown eyes pleading for his protection.

At that moment his life changed. Grace had refused to ever consider Norman having a pet, not so much as a turtle. He had put up with Grace for nearly two decades as she became more and more demanding every year. The donkey had asked for nothing. "No, I will not," he said firmly and decisively. "This is my donkey, and I will..."

"YOUR donkey?" Grace almost screamed- when she got excited she began to spit, and saliva foamed from her mouth like a rabid dog. "Norman, you idiot! We're on holiday, and you bought a DONKEY???"

Several of the onlookers were folded up with laughter at this point, but Norman ignored them- all he could see, in his entire world, was Grace and the donkey. "Yes, I have," he said, summoning up all the courage he could. "I have always wanted one."

This was true enough- Norman had secretly been obsessed with donkeys for most of his life. Once, when he and Grace had first married, he'd confided in her that he fantasized about being a donkey- and Grace had immediately told all of their friends and acquaintances, for no other reason than to humiliate him. He hadn't mentioned it in ten years, but she remembered. "You freak!" she shouted. "You came all the way to the 'States, and ruined my holiday, just so you could bang a donkey!" She got into the green rental car, slamming the door so hard that Norman thought the window would shatter. Grace rolled it down. "I am going to enjoy myself at Disney World," she announced. "If they don't lock you up for screwing a donkey, I'll be at the hotel once you get over this idiocy."

She slammed the Neon into gear and mashed on the accellerator. The ugly little car- somehow less hideous despite it's obnoxious color- roared into traffic, narrowly missing a large truck. The show over, the crowd dispersed, leaving Norman and the donkey standing alone in the parking lot. She nuzzled at his pocket, pulling at the carrots he'd purchased, and he absently pulled one out for her, watching with a feeling of satisfaction as she munched it greedily.

Norman walked to a patio table outside the McDonald's and sat on the bench, the donkey following him confidently. He rubbed her neck, oblivious to the smell of her coat, feeling the coarseness of her fur- much more coarse, he noted, even than that of the ponies he'd ridden at the fair as a child. Most of the other patrons moved away, not so much from the odor but from the human inclination to flee those that are different- an adult man wearing Bermuda shorts and a loudly colored shirt, with a donkey, was not a usual sight, even in the rural Florida town.

One of the other patrons didn't. Norman noticed the man mainly since he was eating a salad, and seemed more the type that would be eating a raw steak. The man was tall and lanky, dressed like a cowboy out of the movies. His boots and dungarees were dusty and showed hard use, and he wore a tan colored shirt with dark yokes. Completing his ensemble, he wore a brown 'ten gallon' hat and sported a belt with a large silver buckle. Norman looked at him with curiosity, the man looking back with eyes that were strangely like that of the donkey- soft and brown, not the steely hard ones that one would expect in a cowboy. The man finished chewing, and spoke- his voice sounded like that of a cowboy, deep, slightly raspy, with a bit of a southern twang. "Nice donkey you got there, pardner."

"Thank you," Norman said, precisely and politely. "I've only had her for a few hours."

"You and your missus seem to have had a hassle."

"We did have a bit of a row," Norman agreed. "She doesn't understand why I need a donkey." Norman suddenly felt foolish again- he didn't really understand why he had needed the donkey, it was more that the donkey had needed him. He reached over and scratched her ear, and she moved her head close to his chest, closing her eyes and letting out a sigh.

The cowboy took another mouthful of the lettuce, chewing it slowly and looking at Norman and his donkey. "There's something special 'bout a donkey," he said slowly. "They don't take to just anybody. You ain't from around here, are you?"

"Well, no," Norman said. "I'm from the UK. Worcester." The donkey was looking at Norman's face again, and he gave her another carrot, feeling her warm breath against his hand as she gobbled it up.

"Kind of a long haul back there, to Worcester," the cowboy said, pronouncing it 'Wooshster'. "You gonna take her back with you?"

The idea of returning without his donkey suddenly didn't seem appealing. "I cannot leave my donkey," Norman said with finality.

"Huh. What's her name?"

"Sally," Norman said, surprising himself- he hadn't put any thought to it, or considered that the two men had never mentioned the donkey's name, but it came out of him, as if he'd known it all his life. "And I am Norman Blackburn."

"Well, Norman, you can call me Cody." The cowboy stood and walked to the table where Norman sat with his donkey. "I don't think they'd put her up in the Seminole Inn, and that's the only hotel in town, so you'd better come with me."

Norman and the donkey followed the man as he walked into the parking lot. Norman had assumed that Cody lived nearby, but instead the cowboy walked to a rather battered truck, which was hooked up to an incongruously new horse trailer. "Just bought it today," Cody commented. "Kinda good luck for you." He swung the trailer's door open. Sally looked at it with suspicion.

"I don't know if she'll get in," Norman said dubiously.

"Step in yourself," Cody urged.

Norman stepped into the trailer. Sally looked, then gathered herself and jumped in, almost knocking him over. Cody shut the large door on the back, and Norman moved to step out through a smaller 'escape' door in the trailer's side.

Sally began to panic and bray loudly. Norman turned back, and the donkey pushed close to him, seeming to gain comfort from his presence. "You want to ride back here with her? It's a long ride, 'bout an hour," Cody asked.

"I don't want her to be frightened," Norman replied. He stroked her matted fur lovingly, with a tenderness he'd not felt with Grace for years.

Cody didn't reply but made an odd snorting sound. The truck door opened and shut, the old truck's engine wheezed to life, and Norman suddenly had to grab at the side of the trailer to keep his footing as it unexpectedly began to move.

The trip wasn't unpleasant overall, but since he couldn't see the road ahead, every stop or change in direction was unexpected, and Norman and Sally would bump against the trailer's sides. The road turned worse- going from a paved road to dirt- and Norman watched out through the side window as they rolled past what seemed miles of orange groves, finally turning down a narrow road lined on both sides with scrub brush and pine trees. The truck slowed, and finally turned into a grassy pasture. The engine turned off, and a moment later Cody was opening the trailer's ramp.

As Norman and Sally stepped out, they could hear a horse whinnying and pounding hooves. A big brown horse ran up to Cody, sliding to a stop and bumping it's head against him. "Did you miss me, pal?" Cody said to the horse in a soft voice, rubbing it's forehead.

The horse glanced at Sally, took a second hard look and snorted, his nostrils flaring and ears sharply forward. Cody laughed. "She's a lot smaller than you, Paul."

The big horse tossed his head, looked at Norman and Sally, then turned and ran off, his hooves pounding the soft grass. "He'll get over it," Cody predicted. "He always gets upset from new things."

The three walked toward a large set of paddocks, where a small group of a half dozen ponies stood watching with curiosity. Sally was a bit taller than most of them. Norman looked to Cody questioningly. "Aren't you a bit tall to be riding ponies?" he asked.

"They're for my guests," he said as the ponies started to crowd around them. Sally exchanged deep sniffs with each of the ponies in greeting. Norman felt odd as one of the ponies walked up and stuck his nose in Norman's face. "Go ahead," Cody said. "He wants to meet you."

Tentatively, he puffed air through his mouth, blowing into the pony's nose, imitating Sally's behavior. Cody watched, and Norman felt a bit uncomfortable- as if he were being evaluated. "You're doing fine," Cody suddenly said, as if he'd read his mind. "They just want to meet you."

Cody left him there, surrounded by the ponies, then returned with a bucket. The ponies seemed disappointed after they stuck their noses in, each having to check to see if there was food- Norman saw there was none, only a yellow bottle and a sponge. "Bath time for your lady," Cody said.

He'd never washed a donkey or horse before- actually, he hadn't even washed a dog since before he'd married Grace. But Norman was soon armed with a hose and wetting Sally down. She seemed a bit upset at first, but stood quietly, allowing Norman to scrub away the grime with the sponge.

After he finished, he was soaked as well. "Here's a towel," Cody said, appearing as Norman finished. "Come on up to the house- it's almost time to eat."

"I really don't want to inconvenience you," Norman said apologetically. "I've already been a bother."

"Let her loose, and come eat," Cody said. "She needs to stretch out a bit. Tori'll take care of her." He looked at one of the ponies, who moved near Sally.

Norman felt a bit of a chill- it was as if the pony had understood Cody- but he shrugged it off, coincidence or his mind playing tricks. He unclipped Sally's halter and slipped it off her head. As he followed Cody, she brayed once, as if to tell him to hurry back.

The house was built on a small hill- Norman guessed it had been built up from sand dug from a nearby pond. It seemed quite ordinary, a small cinderblock house painted yellow. Inside, the furnishings were a confused jumble of old, worn furniture and brand new but cheap plastic chairs and tables. A riot of pictures covered one wall- mostly photographs of horses, with a few of people standing with horses. "Hope you don't mind no meat," Cody said. "I'm a vegetarian."

"Not at all," Norman replied as Cody rummaged in the refridgerator, producing a bowl of some evil looking brownish substance. Cody dumped some into a smaller bowl, then placed it into a microwave oven. As it hummed, he took two aluminum cans out and offered one to his guest. "Hope you like beer."

Grace never allowed him to drink beer- "It's unsophisticated," she would say- but Norman felt reckless and took the beverage. It was more bitter than he expected, but he wasn't going to look bad in front of Cody, and he gulped at it. "It's great," he managed to say. "So exactly what do you do here? Is this farm your business?"

Cody regarded his beer, then looked at Norman, who realized with a bit of discomfort that the man's eyes were the same color as the donkey's, and had the same soft and distant gaze. "Furries," he said. "You know what they are?"

"Yes," Norman replied. "We have them in the UK as well." He'd been intrigued and tempted by the idea himself, but had been unwilling to risk Grace's derision.

"I kinda run a vacation camp for them," Cody said. "They come here for a week, and live with the ponies- all day, all night. I treat 'em like they were just another pony." He shrugged, sipped at his beer, then stood as the microwave chimed. "Food's done."

As Cody ladled some of the brown mixture into two bowls, Norman began to interrogate him. "Don't the ponies know? I mean, after all..."

"Horses are pretty smart," Cody replied. "They know real fast who's playing at being a horse and who's not. The ponies enjoy it, it's someone new to play with. Careful, it's hot."

Norman spooned at the brown stuff- it tasted slightly sweet, with a consistency like porridge. "This is quite good," he said. "What do your pony people eat?"

"A mix of sweet feed, corn, bran, and beet pulp, with a bit of molasses," Cody said. "What you're eating now. But no beer." Cody opened another can, and offered another to Norman, who was feeling lightheaded from the first but accepted anyway. "I don't have any people in right now," Cody said. "Real shame, since the weather's gonna be pretty good next week."

The beer made it very clear to Norman. Fate had brought him here, brought him to Sally, freed him for a while from Grace's torment, and given him a chance to live his fantasy for a week. "Let me," he said suddenly.

"You want to try bein' a pony?" Cody asked.

"No, a donkey- like Sally." Norman steeled himself, expecting Cody to laugh, but instead the cowboy nodded knowingly.

"All right," Cody said. "It can be kinda rough. Just tell me if you change your mind- that's the only thing you're allowed to say from when you start for the next week."

"How much do you charge?" Norman realized that Cody's ranch, as it catered to what some might find deviant behavior, might be quite expensive.

"For you- no charge."

"Why?" Norman asked, confused.

Cody looked at him. "Why'd you buy a donkey?"

"I had to save her," Norman said.

Cody nodded. "Same reason. Let's get started."

*******************************************

Norman felt a little odd as Cody had him undress in the barn. "Donkeys don't wear clothes," Cody explained. "But you'll need to wear these." The cowboy produced a set of four realistic looking hooves, with leggings of a sort that came about halfway to Norman's knees and elbows, and after Norman them on Cody fastened them tightly with a kind of Velcro. Next came a pair of ears- they went over Norman's real ears, and were soft and surprisingly comfortable. He found that he could, with a great deal of effort, wiggle them the least bit and was quite pleased.

"From this point on, you're a donkey," Cody told him- the sound of his voice was somewhat blurred by the shape of the ears, though Norman could hear quite well otherwise. "Let me hear you bray like one."

"AAAH-Heee!" Norman tried.

It was convincing enough for Sally, who called back from outside the barn. "AAAH-hee!"

Cody put a nylon halter over Norman's head- it didn't fit exactly right, but hung slightly loose over his face- attached a lead rope and pulled. Norman was surprised a bit, but stumbled along after him. Cody put him into a stall then latched the door shut. Norman realized that with the hooves laced to his hands he couldn't get out, and felt a bit of temporary panic at being trapped, but realized that this was doubtless what a horse or donkey would feel as well.

He watched as Cody brought the ponies in, one by one, putting each into their own stalls, speaking softly to each, and marveled at how the ponies listened to him, as if they understood. He brought the big horse Paul in, putting him in a stall across from Norman- the horse looked at Norman almost critically, tilting his head to one side and looking at him through one eye.

Norman almost spoke to Cody, to ask why Paul was doing that, but remembered- he was a donkey for a week. "AAAH-Hee!" Norman said. Cody looked at him and smiled, then walked back out of the barn.

Sally came in last, going into a stall next to Norman's. She seemed pleased, almost excited, when she saw Norman standing there and pressed against the side of the stall, sticking her head over into Norman's. He remembered what the ponies had done, and put his nose near hers, breathing in deeply as she exhaled.

Overall, it was more pleasant than smelling Grace's breath. Sally's smelled of grass and oats and another deep scent, one that Norman couldn't identify but found attractive, while Grace's breath frequently smelled like sour milk or stale cigarettes. He and Sally stood there for a few seconds, puffing at each other, and she suddenly squealed.

Norman hadn't expected that and jumped back. The donkey's ears picked up and she looked at Norman, seemingly confused.

He shook his head as the barn lights went out. It was immediately very dark, and he wondered if snakes or rats came into the barn at night. It wasn't cold- Florida in the summer was quite warm- but a variety of bugs were soon flying about the stall.

Norman laid down after drinking a bit of water from a bucket- with the hooves on it was all he could manage to stick his face into the bucket and gulp at it. The floor of the stall was covered with straw, but he could feel the dirt beneath it. The bugs- mosquitoes- were soon biting at him, and he could only evade them by rolling in the straw. It seemed effective, but he was also soon covered with dirt.

He soon realized he had another problem- the beer and the water's aftereffects. He needed to urinate badly, but there was no way to get out of the stall. After squirming for a time, he finally gave in, relieving himself in a corner, then lying back down to sleep in the opposite one. Tired from the long day, he was soon asleep.

*************************************************

The ponies woke him the next morning- they and Paul all were banging against their feed buckets, like inmates at a jail. Norman was quite hungry as well, and wondered what Cody would be serving for breakfast- and more importantly when.

It seemed like hours, but Cody finally came out. The ponies and the horse began nickering as soon as they heard his approach. Sally began to bray loudly, looking toward the door, and Norman surprised himself as he began to as well.

Most of the ponies and Sally got grain scooped from a bucket that Cody carried, but he stopped at her stall. Norman watched him walk off, a bit frustrated, but felt an odd excitement when the man came back, carrying a bucket that steamed slightly. He poured some of the mixture into Norman's feed bucket, the rest into Paul's. "Eat up, boys," he said.

Norman noted gratefully that the feed bucket was a big wide one- he could easily get his head into it, as he didn't have the proper muzzle of a horse or donkey and would have had trouble eating from a deep bucket. The mix was much the same as he'd eaten the previous night, but now it seemed even better.

As he ate, Cody walked into the stall, carrying a spray bottle. He began to dispense an acrid chemical spray over Norman, who jumped slightly.

"Easy, now," Cody said. "It's just bug spray." He finished, walking to Sally, who had much the same reaction.

The ponies and Paul stood still, used to the drill. As Norman finished, he saw that many of the ponies had already been let out into a field, and soon he was on the lead rope again. Cody turned Sally loose, and she followed along, nudging Norman with her nose.

Reaching the pasture, Cody led Norman through the gate, turning to shut it after Sally came through, then unclipped the lead rope. "Get on out there," he urged.

Sally looked at Norman, unwilling to leave him. Norman walked into the pasture, wondering what passers by might think, but realized with the high trees and bushes around Cody's ranch there was little chance anyone would see him, standing naked in the field other than for his false hooves and ears.

The ponies stood a bit aloof from the real and imitation donkey, as if unsure of exactly what they were. Norman looked at the grass that Sally and the ponies munched on, wishing he too could sample it- then decided to try. Getting down onto his elbows, he took a bite. The grass was sweet, like Sally's breath, but he only ate a small bit- it was rather difficult to chew and he doubted that ingesting much would be possible. The chemical that Cody had sprayed on was keeping the bugs away, but not the heat or the sun. Norman realized he'd have quite a tan when this was over, and wondered how he'd explain to Grace, but realized that was an 'un donkeylike' thought and pushed it from his mind, determined to savor the experience.

By noon, he felt incredibly relaxed. The ponies had gotten over their initial trepidation and were grazing next to Sally and him, there was water in a large trough, and he had no cares- until he felt a pain on his arm. One of the ponies, a slightly overweight bay mare, had bit him. Norman wondered what to do, remembering Cody's statement- the ponies knew 'who was playing and who wasn't'. Well, this was part of being a donkey, and he decided that a donkeylike reaction was needed.

He opened his mouth and bit the pony back, on the crest of her neck. The pony turned, threatening to kick, so Norman instead kicked first, feeling his 'hoof' smack against the pony's flank- not enough to cause real harm, but the pony jumped, snorting, and left him alone. Determined to act more like the equines, Norman spent the afternoon carefully watching the herd so as to mimic their behavoir more thoroughly.

Late in the afternoon, the ponies crowded about the gate, so he joined them, along with Sally. Clearly it was almost time for them to eat- he knew this, objectively, but tried to push the human thought from his mind and instead think like Sally, not knowing the pasture schedule but instead following the herd.

They were soon rewarded as Cody arrived, the ponies nickering excitedly, knowing that their supper would soon be served. Sally tried to push toward the gate, but one of the ponies made a threatening gesture, pinning his ears and bobbing his head, and she backed away- the more dominant members of the herd would claim right to be first 'in'.

Norman wasn't sure why he did it- if it was a subconscious realization of this and need to move up in the herd hierarchy, anger at his donkey being threatened, or just being hungry, but he brayed loudly and charged at the gate. The ponies scattered, startled by his charge, except for the bay that had bitten him before. She pinned her ears, challenging Norman.

He struck at her with the hooves on his hands- the pony reared and lashed with her fore hooves, and Norman realized that he could be seriously injured, but he stood fast. They bumped, one of the pony's hooves striking his chest a glancing blow, then she turned away and moved sullenly from the gate. Norman felt vindicated, as if he'd won, when the big horse galloped up. Paul's ears were up, his nostrils flared, and Norman, still feeling the sting of the pony's hoof, decided it would be wise to defer 'gate rights' to the much larger horse.

Cody opened the gate and came in. Paul came up to him, and Cody rubbed the big horse's face, talking to him quietly, then came to Norman and clipped the lead rope to his halter. "Come on, Norman," he said. "Paul just wants to be the boss at the gate- he always comes in last." As they walked to the barn, Cody kept talking to Norman, as he'd spoken to the ponies. "You know, I don't think anyone else ever came here and was boss of the pony herd their first day. You're gonna be quite a pistol."

Norman wanted to ask Cody a dozen questions, but kept quiet as he was led into the stall. He waited as Cody brought the others in- first the bay pony, then Sally, then the rest of the ponies, and finally Paul. He joined the others, braying loudly until Cody came back to the barn to feed them, and gulped his food down. This night, he didn't feel uncomfortable or even think twice about relieving himself in the stall- it seemed natural now, almost part of his normal life.

*************************************

The next morning, he woke, hungry and wishing he could fill himself with hay as he had seen Sally doing the night before. He drank deeply from the water bucket- it seemed easier, now, with practice- then walked over to the feed bucket. Disappointed to find it empty, he grabbed it with his teeth, slamming it back and forth.

Cody took far too long to feed them, Norman thought with annoyance, as the man walked almost casually down the row of stalls, scooping some of the grain mixture in for each of the ponies. When he finally reached the end, Norman brayed loudly, surprising himself a bit at how much he sounded like Sally.

"Easy, easy now," Cody said, pouring in the same moist mixture that he had eaten the day before.

Norman ate quickly, glancing about to make sure that... what? Another horse might eat his food? Norman would have laughed at the thought but strangely felt concerned as he licked the bottom of the bucket, getting every bit of the mix.

Before long, Cody was there with the lead rope, snapping it to his halter, which must have shrunk- it wasn't quite as loose any more. Norman followed along, impatient to be out in the pasture, and almost dragged Cody through the gate.

The cowboy laughed. "Take it easy, Norman. They won't eat all the grass."

Norman ignored the comment, rushing over to the group of ponies as soon as Cody unsnapped the rope. Sally brayed a welcome, and he brayed back, trotting over and smelling her. She smelled a bit different today, a musky odor that made Norman feel a bit heady.

The ponies and Sally began grazing, and Norman felt a bit jealous as they munched the soft grass. He tried to scratch his arm- it was hard, and he ended up using his teeth, as he'd seen the ponies do. There was quite a bit of dirt on him now, from sleeping in the stall, and it made the hair on his arms seem thicker- as if there was more there than had been the previous day. The sun was also having it's toll, making his skin seem darker. He thought for a moment that it was good that he wasn't getting sunburned, then dismissed the thought as unimportant.

By noon he was famished. There was nothing to eat in the pasture other than the grass and some thick leaved cane. Norman decided to try munching the grass again- though it had been almost too tough to chew, it was better than nothing.

This time it was a bit easier- Norman surmised that the previous day, he must have picked the wrong grass. This was tender, almost like lettuce, and he was able to chew it quite easily. He noticed that it seemed a slightly different shade of green, and realized something he'd never noticed before- the greens were hundreds of different shades in the vegetation, and he was delighted at this realization.

The afternoon passed pleasantly enough, and when it was dinnertime he almost felt disappointed in leaving the pasture. The ponies deferred to him as he approached, making way for the new 'pasture boss', and Sally pressed close beside him, enjoying his status as well. He could still smell the musky smell from her, a bit more intense now, and began to feel a sensation in his loins.

Now wait. That's...no, don't even begin to think of such things. He tried to ignore her, but she was right there, and he felt an attraction to the jenny that he could not deny.

Fortunately Cody walked up just then, and Norman forced himself to think of dinner, promising himself that he would not succumb to his strange desire.

*******************************************

The next morning, Norman realized that his fingers and toes were numb- he couldn't feel them at all, and wondered idly for a moment if he was suffering permanent nerve damage, but then realized his feed bucket was empty again and began to shake it with his teeth. Finally, the man came and scooped out his feed, and he ate quickly, in case one of the ponies were to get into his stall and try to take it.

The man came and opened his stall door, clipping the lead rope to his halter and rubbing his nose. "You're coming along nicely, Norman," the man said. Norman had to think hard to try to figure this out- for some reason, he must not have had enough sleep, as the concept was confusing. He tried to stand, but his back hurt from sleeping on the ground, and he stayed on all fours- realizing for the first time that there must be some kind of extension in the artificial hooves, as he could actually walk this way.

As soon as they got to the gate, he pulled again, but this time the man held onto the rope. "Take it easy," he said in a comforting voice. "You'll be with them soon enough." Freed from the lead rope, Norman galloped into the pasture, surprised at how fast he could move, looking for Sally. She saw him and ran over, bucking, and the two ran around the pasture, braying loudly and making the ponies run.

Sweating from the exertion, they finally stopped, drinking from the water trough. He could smell her, even more intense now, and sniffed at her nose. She squealed, walking about four feet away, and urinated, swishing her tail from side to side.

Norman smelled her rump. He knew what she wanted, and she did as well, backing her rump up against his chest. His heart pounded- he wanted the same thing, badly, and could feel himself getting an erection, but felt- or knew- somehow it was wrong- or was it? Was it just the decision of society, arbitrarily imposing some morality, a society that condoned and accepted horrors like nuclear weapons and starvation for peoples too poor to pay for food, that acknowledged ruthless dictatorships as 'realpolitik' as long as they were economically convenient? He wanted Sally, she wanted him, and he pushed aside humanity, rearing on his hind legs onto her back and thrusting into her, feeling her vagina squeeze against him until he erupted.

After, he felt no shame, only a satisfaction as he and Sally grazed together. She was his, he felt deeply content, and they stayed together all afternoon. He covered her twice more, as their natural urges drove them to ensure that more donkeys would come into the world.

That evening, the man was late bringing them in. They were all impatient, waiting at the gate, and Norman brayed loudly and angrily as the man walked up.

"It's time," the man said. Norman ignored it- he didn't understand what the man was talking about; he only thought about the food waiting in his stall, and tugged impatiently at the lead rope. The halter was getting a bit tight, and the man took it off when he put Norman in his stall.

This time, the man gave him the same grain the ponies were eating. He had to eat a bit more slowly, since it was dry and took longer to chew, but Norman still looked suspiciously at Paul, worried that the horse might somehow get loose and try to eat Norman's food.

After he finished the grain, Norman started to pick at the hay- it was good, not as fresh as the grass, but better than being hungry all night.

************************************** As the sun came up, Norman grabbed his bucket in his teeth and began to shake it noisily. The ponies also started to wake from the racket, some whinnying and others rattling their buckets as well.

The man came in, feeding them, then taking out the ponies to pasture. He took Sally out, then came for Norman, putting a new halter on- it fit better, the other had been too small. Norman pulled impatiently on the lead rope, anxious to get to the pasture and his jenny.

The man took him to a new pasture, where Sally waited. The ponies were in a different one; Norman wondered why, but dismissed the thought. He was a bit disappointed, since some of the mares were coming into heat, and he had no way to know that the man didn't want his pony mares producing mules.

But there was grass, and Sally for companionship. He swished his tail at a fly, watching as the man walked up.

There was a woman with him- one that was a bit different from most of the humans he'd seen. This one wore no human clothes, but had a pair of ears that looked like his- he sniffed at her as she came up; the ears were fake, as were the hooves she wore on her hands and feet. But she was out to play- somehow he knew, she wanted to play with them, and he brayed a greeting.

The man told her something that Norman couldn't quite make out, and the human woman brayed back- it almost sounded right, and Norman found her attempt at sounding like a donkey amusing. He wondered how long she'd stay.