If we mules are known for anything—except for being incredibly clever and surefooted and also being persistent and inquisitive . . . and hungry, and hard of hoof, and large of ear . . . and being slightly smaller than our horse brethren but also stronger and with sounder legs . . . and kicking, though that's a myth—then we are known for banding together in a time of crisis. Now, in New York (a not too terrible place even though the Yankees play baseball there), there is a mule who needs your help.
Echo excels in every other area, and right now he is excelling at staying alive despite a diagnosis of hemangiosarcoma. This means that we must assume that he will live for many more years in order to counteract the effect of the thoughts of the veterinarians, who assume that he will live only months. Mule thoughts are more powerful than other people's thoughts, which is why we have a reputation for always getting our way. Today I elevate you all, dear readers, to temporary mule status in order that you might exert the Power of the Bray on the universe and ask for a special extension of earthly time for HHM Echo Doppler.
Now, that's out of the way . . . I'll lighten the mood with an excellent joke that I heard recently.
A mule walks into a bar. The bartender says, "Hay, why the long face?" The mule says, "Hay??! Yes, please!!" Wah,wah,wah, wah!