Donkey hotey
As a former wild child, or as I tell people, a child bride, I am lucky enough to have a three-year-old grand-daughter at an age where fellow bloggers have children. She is a delight, the love of my life and nudging Number One Son in the Chosen One Stakes. This week, I spent a delightful day at the donkey sanctuary with my grand-daughter, along with Number One Son and my friend Pelly. This was a good place to visit because 1) it's close by 2) it's free 3) it takes care of abused animals. I have mixed feelings about this place. It's rather like Old Ladies' Legacy Land. The donkeys live a life of luxury with no expense spared. The donations boards are full of the names of the great and the good, predominately single females with double barreled names, whose bequests help keep it going. This is not a bad thing. It is lovely to see otherwise abused donkeys enjoying their senior years in the paddocks of Devon. But I always think if I won the lottery, I would set up a cow san...