Serving Clovis, Portales and the Surrounding Communities

Maybe he just likes being alone

We have a black cat that spends a few minutes every day walking through the house, meowing loudly.

Why?

I don't know, it's a cat thing.

"He's probably protesting that he's not an only cat," I said once to The Lady of the House.

I thought of our black cat as I considered Pinocchio, the lone donkey who has his own spread of land up at Clovis' Ned Houk Park.

Apparently his cantankerousness with other donkeys is how he ended up at Ned Houk Park.

I didn't used to know a thing about Pinocchio before early this month.

That's when an email from a reader came into The News alleging Pinocchio was up there at Ned Houk Park, all by himself, living in lousy conditions.

"Go up there and check this out. Get pictures," came the orders from Bossman.

"You want to go on an adventure?" I asked The Lady of The House. "Off to Ned Houk Park to see how the donkey is getting along. Besides, I need your eyes to see him."

Glaucoma has put a dent in my vision.

We got up there May 13 and drove one way and then another in the park.

No donkey.

"There he is," exclaimed The Lady of the House, pointing.

Off in the distance, standing on top of an outcropping in the land, there was a lone donkey.

We stopped and walked over to the fence.

About that time Pinocchio decided to mosey over our way, right up to the fence.

I scratched his ears and head, The Lady of the House was rubbing his back.

"Well he sure doesn't look underfed," I said, noticing his bulging body.

"This is what is called being put out to pasture," The Lady of the House said.

We got back in the car and headed on back to town.

"Well, he could use a good brushing," the Lady of the House said as we drove along.

"He has plenty of water. He has a hill so he can play 'King of the Hill,'" she added.

I've seen animals out to pasture in my time. That's the thing, I didn't see anything striking about Pinocchio's habitat.

But some do, and therein lies the rub.

Chris Pettigrew is concerned about Pinocchio.

In an email she wrote, she noted she and her husband often visit the donkey.

"We brush him ... and we give him treats and pet him," Pettigrew wrote.

The two allege his shelter should be repaired and took that concern and others about the donkey to the city where allegedly volunteerism to help was turned down.

The donkey arrived at Ned Houk Park from the zoo around 2004 "because he could not behave," Pettigrew said.

"He was put out there in the first place because he did not get along with other donkeys," Clovis Parks and Recreation Director Russell Hooper confirmed. Part of Hooper's duties involve overseeing the zoo as well as Ned Houk Park.

"He's fine," Hooper said of the donkey.

He believes the donkey likes his home.

"We've improved his watering tank, he has toys, he's fed well, he gets supplemental food, we've had vets look at him, he's taken care of. He's not just abandoned out there," Hooper said.

The Lady of the House pondered having Pinocchio in our yard.

"I think that might bother the code police. Besides, it would probably be me who'd have to shovel the manure," I said.

"We have gardens. Gardens need manure," she said with a smile.

Grant McGee writes for The Eastern New Mexico News. Contact him:

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