Donkey Rescue

10,000 Acres

Written By Inger Wiltz

As the old burro stood by the fencepost and watched the sun rise over the eastern ridges of the Tehachapis, he thought of his old home in the vast Mojave Desert on the other side of those mountains. He remembered the stillness of the cold morning air, the rising sun tinting the desert pink and blue, the rock formations shimmering in the distance. He thought of the other burros, his old friends, happy at the start of a new day. Soon the herd would set out on a trek through the desert to look for food and water. I know, he thought, that I’m in a safe place here. The mountains are still beautiful and the sun rises every morning. I have some friends and I know that the man who took us from our desert home means well. He saved us from a danger worse than the fiercest predator. He saved us from men who wanted to move us to a very bad place. Men, who wanted to harm us, kill us even.

The man who saved us, he is a very big man, comes and talks to me sometimes. He says he is very busy, trying to make a better life for all us burros. So he doesn’t have much time to spend with us right now. But he is a good man. I can look him in the eye and know he wants me to settle here and be content. They feed us well, the doctor comes, and we get shots and other things to keep us healthy. The farrier comes and takes care of our hooves. We are all taken care of very well at the rescue. And I know that the big man really loves us. I can see it in his eyes.

But I’m here, behind a fence, with my home somewhere behind those mountains. I stand here and I dream. I dream that the big man has 10,000 acres. If anyone could get 10,000 acres, it would be him. I’m just an old burro, but I know that the desert stretches farther than you can imagine: California, Nevada, Arizona and beyond. How can there be no room for us burros? If the big man had 10,000 acres somewhere in this wide expanse, we could be free again. It could even be fenced, so we would know to not stray beyond, onto some rancher’s land. It would still be big enough so we could roam and maintain our old order of life. After all, when the old miners and burro men of the past died out and we were let go into the desert, we created order amongst ourselves, we multiplied and we survived for 100 years. If the big man had 10,000 acres, we could maintain order all by ourselves. We would not bother any man or take any food or water away from any cattle or any antelope. I know of only one man who could help us get the 10,000 acres.

Even if it will be too late for me, thought the old burro, I heard that a most beautiful black foal was born the other day, here at the ranch. That foal can live for 40 years or more and he shouldn’t have to spend all that time behind a fence. He should be able to watch the sun rise, turning the desert pink, and he should be able roam, looking for food, water, a pretty jenny, and a best friend in a herd of other wild burros. He should be able to experience this thing called FREEDOM. It is my dream, thought the old burro, and when the big man comes to see me again, I will tell him I have a dream.

Inger Wiltz, June 2007