Alan the Christmas Donkey by Tracy Garton

Author:Tracy Garton [Tracy Garton with Danielle Hoffman]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781509839032
Publisher: Pan Macmillan UK

10

In Too Deep

It’s a cliché, but the good old British weather really is unpredictable. It certainly keeps us on our toes. One day we’re preparing for a scorching weekend packed with visitors, and the next we’re rushing donkeys into the stables in the pouring rain.

Thankfully, the summer of 2009 had been a warm one on the whole. For the most part, the donkeys spent the night happily in the fields instead of being cooped up in the stables. They prefer it, and I do too. It’s one less job, not having to bring them in at night then clean out the stables the next morning.

Then early one morning in July, I was woken up by a donkey’s cry shattering my dreams. I sat bolt upright in bed, and picked up my mobile to check the time. Quarter past five, not long until it was time to get up. The donkey’s cry came again and this time, being a bit more awake, I could tell it was Alan. I’d know that racket anywhere.

It roused Steve too.

‘He must be desperate for his breakfast, greedy bugger,’ he said, rolling over to catch a final fifteen-minute kip.

‘Hmm,’ I agreed. But at the back of my mind a little alarm bell was ringing. Sure, Alan was our noisiest donkey. And I wouldn’t put it past him to get us out of bed early just because he fancied a bit of attention. He was cheeky like that. Still, though, it was very out of character for him to be causing chaos this early in the morning just for the sake of it.

So, bleary-eyed, I trudged out of bed and cracked the curtain back a few inches. To my surprise, the ground was covered with puddles. It must have rained overnight – a lot.

If we’d known, we would have brought the donkeys in. Heavy rain certainly hadn’t been forecast. I religiously checked the local TV weather bulletin every single day.

As I was out of bed anyway, I decided to go down to check on the donkeys. If the fields were particularly soggy, it would be best to bring them into the stables to dry off before they got too muddy. So I quickly changed out of my PJs, pulled an old baseball cap over my hair, and headed out across the yard. Field by field, I checked on all the donkeys. First, I did a quick count to make sure they were all present and correct. Then I cast my eye over the ground to make sure it wasn’t too soggy. The last thing I wanted was the donkeys getting stuck in the mud. So far, so good.

Finally, I got to the Hooligans’ field.

‘One, two, three, four . . .’ I counted under my breath. But I was one short. Surely that couldn’t be right? I counted again, and realised with horror that my first count had been correct. One of the donkeys was missing. What’s more, Alan was loitering strangely down at the far end of the field.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.