Writing to the stars—a copy of my letter to Ewan

Ewan McGregor

United Talent Agency

9560 Wilshire Blvd.

Suite 500

Beverly Hills, CA 90212-2401

USA

Dear Mr. McGregor,

You mentioned your interest in owning a donkey during an episode of The Long Way Down, and I wanted to encourage you to give it a try. Donkeys are warm, affectionate, stoic, and charming creatures. Their needs are few: the company of humans and other equines, a healthy diet of grass hay and minerals, a safely fenced enclosure with shelter and room to move around, and regular hoof and veterinary care. It's likely within your means to provide these things, and you'll be repaid ten times over by your donkey with his humor, his kindness, and his antics.

Donkeys do best with a friend, and so I want to encourage you to adopt a pair. The Donkey Sanctuary, Sidmouth, Devon EX10 0NU, telephone +44 (0) 1395 578222, can provide you with additional information about finding and looking after a donkey in the United Kingdom, and there are a number of additional donkey charities in the UK, the United States, and around the world. Adoption is a responsible way to find a new pet, and the world is full of donkeys in need.

If you are interested in helping donkeys but don't want any of your own, I encourage you to extend your philanthropy to our hooved friends. I appreciate and admire your charitable work for children and impoverished people, and I hope that my suggestion will be taken as an addition rather than an alternative to your wonderful work in these areas. Monetary donations are sorely needed and I am sure there are dozens if not hundreds of worthy associations who would love some assistance in funding their efforts to help these hard-working and often maligned animals.

http://www.thedonkeysanctuary.org.uk has more information about donkey rescue and some webcams of their residents in the barn and yard. My own mule (the offspring of a donkey and a horse) lives in my backyard in Acme, Washington, and blogs at www.braysofourlives.com. I'm including his picture on the enclosed card, and would very much appreciate a note from you to acknowledge receipt of this message. I'm including a SASE in case you would like to use it to reply.

Thank you,

Marnie Jones

(return address included in actual correspondence)

Comments

Here are the Cloud Dog's X-Rays

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Continued . . .

Vegan Spring Rolls

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2025 State of the Farmlet Address

A red stag photographed by Farmwife in Scotland, from whence the family descends and to where they voyaged in September 2024. Dear Mules and Countrywomen, It is my pleasure to report to you today, from my forested vantage point, that the Farmlet is well. It has been eight years since my family had a Farmlet to report upon, and this one is among the best. It is 25 minutes south of Casa de Bartholomule-Teaspoon, where you may remember the family lived for a time, and situated on the same verdant island. It is 120 minutes south of Bent Barrow Farm, where the ancient rhododendron still blooms and where FenBar's old barn of many colors still stands and shelters farm machinery. This place has rhododendrons, too, encircling a lawn which slopes down to my barn and paddock. We call the barn Hoofhouse, and it is going to be painted black in the spring to match the house and my companion, Puck. My paddock, by design, does not overlap the lawn but instead winds through a mix...

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That Which Was Foretold Has Come To Pass

After some negotiation and exchange of words like "motheaten" and "raggedy", Farmwife talked me into enduring the roaching of my mane, which I had rubbed on the fence while reaching for delectable edibles at my previous home. We both agreed on four things: 1) it was essential to retain my forelock, which is a thing of splendor that adds greatly to my dashing good looks. I'll get a picture for you tomorrow. 2) once the cut has grown out a bit, she will give me those fancy castle turrets that she used to style for Fenway. 3) we owe our dear readers a better photo, when I have not just rolled in the mud. 4) there is no hairstyle capable of making me look anything but marvelous.

Continued . . .

BRAYS OF OUR LIVES

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