Read part one.
I was so excited the next day. My trainer's dad was scheduled to pick up Donk around noon and I'd head out after work to give him a try.
As soon as I arrived at the barn, my trainer said, "I know you're eager to try him out. Why don't you bring him around and tack him up where I can observe. Based on what we've seen, I think you can ride him first."
Wow! I wouldn't even need anyone to warm him up for me! So cool!
Personal observation: My trainer is incredibly safety conscious—something I love. However, there was a point I thought I'd never get to ride a mule that hadn't been warmed up by someone else. Fortunately, those times have passed.
After grabbing the new halter I'd just bought, I headed down to the barn where Donk was waiting in a tie stall. When I turned the corner, I noticed something odd. His eyes weren't soft and friendly like they were the night before. Now they were sharp and alert. As I quietly moved in to put on a stud chain, he began to pace back and forth. Not a good sign. Convinced it was something I was doing, I asked another rider with much more experience to come over to assist.
"Am I doing something wrong?" I asked.
"No," she said matter-of-factly. "He shouldn't be doing that."
She expertly inserted the stud chain in the halter, and we were off to tack up.
Personal observation: I always lead with a stud chain on my mule. Why? Because I'm no match for 1,000 pounds of equine with attitude, and no matter how fabulous an animal is, there are always days when they have attitude. For those days, I like to have my tools ready. Besides, the way Donk was acting, I wasn't going to take a chance.
Back in the yard, I tied Donk to a tree and began to saddle him up. Though I wasn't experienced enough to recognize it at the time, he was very cinchy. His back balled up and he was tense as a rattler about to strike. Once, when asking him to move away from me with a gentle "over" and a soft cue, he startled and quickly stepped away as if I'd slapped him with a reign.
"Um, If you don't mind, I think I'll have one of the wranglers ride him down a bit before you get on," my trainer suggested.
"By all means," I replied. Novice or no, I knew something was up. Donk was not behaving in the calm manner that I'd become used to with my trainer's animals. I was more than happy to let a wrangler "take the fall" as it were.
As my friends and I stood watch, the wrangler prepared to mount from the ground. As his weight settled into the stirrup, Donk reared up and slowly spun away.
"Yeah. Why don't we pony him down a bit before...," my trainer trailed off. "On second thought, why don't we put up, and tomorrow Dad will take him back where he came from."
"Sounds like a plan," I replied.
Personal observation: I wasn't really sad that night—Donk was too ugly to get sad over—but I know I was a little let down. Later, while talking with my trainer, we came to the conclusion that Donk had likely been drugged—both the night we looked at him and the day that her dad picked him up. It was the best explanation for his droopy appearance and seemingly inexplicable mood changes.
Why a person would be foolish enough to agree to a two-week trial for a mule that was drugged I'll never know. Maybe they thought that I'd simply fall in love with him and blame his faults on my inexperience. Fortunately, I had the support of those with experience enough to help me make the safe choice. I only wish every novice was so fortunate.
After my lesson that evening (on a much safer mule), I went to dinner with Travis. After dinner, he did something I never would've expected. He bought me a gorgeous black and white Paint mare—from Toys-R-Us.
Photo: Donk gets tacked up by his owner. What a looker! I just don't know why I didn't overlook his shortcomings and fall in love with him on the spot! *tee hee*
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