A Prima Donna Donkey Goes Bad

Let’s see, where did we last leave our sedulous secretary and the sadistic Mr. Bear? I believe we were cleaning poop – yes, sounds about typical at this juncture. After retrieving our prima donna donkey, I was to tie him back up at the trailer and come back in quickly for the next lamb scene. (Remember that I am working all this out as I go this first rehearsal in that no one has told me the SPECIFICS of the songs and areas that the animals will be required to make their entrances and exits. By the end, however, I am glad to say that, with a couple of wonderful little helpers, we were able to get things “down pat” and move quite fluidly from scene to scene. THANK YOU TO MY LITTLE SHEPHERDS & SHEPHERDESSES, THE GENTLEMAN WHO WALKED BEAR BEFORE HIS SCENE WHEN I WAS RUNNING LIKE A CHICKEN, AND MY BEAUTIFUL CHILDREN WHO STUCK BY MY SIDE TO HELP WHEN AND WHERE NEEDED – EVEN WITH THE FAKE BLOOD CLEANUP EACH NIGHT!)


So I return Bear to the trailer where I am faced with the duanting task of tying the sacred “jerk knot”. You know when you think you have something totally memorized and all of a sudden the task is required of you and you go completely blank. Well, this was ALMOST one of those moments. I could remember the first step of the knot, then…I just saw nothing on my mental monitor. OMW – I was standing there with this mammoth thinking, “I need to be in there with a lamb in about 5 minutes – I actually didn’t know exactly HOW much time I had, but I whipped out my program and it wasn’t enough to stand there like a dufus trying to tie behemoth here to the trailer. So I took a deep breath and did the best I could. The first try left the poor donkey (yeah, I kinda felt sorry for him for the moment) unable to reach down to eat his hay – I was afraid he would choke to death. I untie and try again. Second tie, a little better, but now I’m just totally insecure, so I untie again. Third time, again. OK, buddy, this is it – I’ve got a lamb to get to the priest so he can raise it above his head and pray it doesn’t squirm it’s way out of his hands or poop or pee on him while he’s holding it, last try! “I go around the back, I go around again, and then I … IT WORKED!” Alright, dude, eat some grass and DON’T GO ANYWHERE!

This night finally came to an end and the next two nights of rehearsals went off OK aside from the doggie diaper failure and a couple of lamb pellet cleanups. We had, had this grand idea that if dogs could wear diapers, why couldn’t lambs – run to the local pet store, pick up some diapers – medium size for a lambs backsides, and dress the lambs with the cute little diapers. Great idea, right? Um…no. It seemed that no matter how tight we put these contraptions on the lambs, the poop just rolled right out. Now tell me…no, never mind. I don’t really even want to think about it.

First night of performances, I have my time and mapping laid out to a close perfection and all animals and people are in place. My job lies as follows:

1) Ready lambs, but keep them quiet just off stage for their first scene which is at the end of first song (have you ever tried to keep a bunch of scared baby lambs quiet – give it a go, go on, try it).

2) Hand lambs off, when 1st song begins, to shepherds (a bunch of fussy teenage boys who were more afraid of lamb poop than wearing gowns on stage!)

3) Run behind curtain DURING this 1st song and wait for cue to pull curtain back for character entrance and then wait for end of song to close it back.

4) Retrive lambs and hand two of the four lambs off to individuals who will make sure they get back to their pen safely, then transport the remaining two around the lobby (as quietly as possible – again, scared baby animals inside building with loud music and people scurrying everywhere) to the other side of the stage for their next scene.  Have children wait there with lambs to give to the appropriate people, then wait for the lambs to return & run put them up once again.

5) Scramble to the front of the church where Bear is waiting to be walked around and we are to watch for that “cue”. I am also to brush any knots or rough spots out of his coat so that he will look nice for his appearance.

6) Move Bear into the building and hand off to Jesus. Move to the other set of doors and watch for Bear to come up the isle so that I can retrieve him and secure him to his trailer.

7) Run back inside, make sure the two lambs were returned safely and quietly to their pen and clean up any accidents.

8) Listen for the song in which the last lamb is to appear, retrieve the lamb, then wait, keeping him quiet, until he is needed. Hand him off to priest and, when that is over, return him to his fellow brothers in holding.

9) Clean up, once more.

This is one of those things that looks much more simple on paper than in reality, but it actually wasn’t all that bad! I had fun and the animals weren’t all that bad. I felt a little like a zookeeper by the end, but it was great!  (Like I might be able to make friends with those bellowing cows across the street yet!)

Now, do you remember from the list above #5? Well, there is a reason that I listed the later part of that chore. Brushing an animal to brighten its coat and to make it look presentable is not a bad thing, right? What the animal does in response to that just might be. I wrestled with whether or not I should divulge this part of the story, but facts are facts and I thought it might shed light on just why I call myself “Lily” (innocent or naive) and just what a comedy my life really can be sometimes. 

So I’m rushing from spot to spot, handing off animals left and right and trying to make sure that my part in this production is done with proficiency and professionalism. First night, things ran rather smoothly with actually little to no poop or goof-ups. All is well! Second night, I am transitioning smoothly and handing off the two lambs for their second scene and preparing to head to Bear’s trailer to walk him and make sure that he is looking presentable when one of the ladies stops me and inquires, “Annie, just what did you do to old Bear before you brought him in for his scene last night?” “I just brushed him and walked him around. Why?” “Oh. Well that would explain it,” she informs me. “Explain what?” “Why we had a really happy donkey last night.” “Huh? What? Why was he particularly happy last night? What would brushing him…? OMW!!! No way!” “Yes, girl. My boyfriend was here last night and he knows enough about horses to know that Bear was a happy donkey, or at least a little relaxed last night when he sauntered down the isle.”

My face must have looked like someone watching a baby deer getting eaten by a crocodile!  I had no idea – I was simply doing what I had been told! Who knew? How embarrassing – I was headlong into an “Ewwwww!!! dance” when I finally replied, “No more brushing for that old donkey! Knots or not, I’m not doing that again! He’ll just have to look nappy!” And that was the last time I will ever brush an animal, folks. Lesson learned, face red, reputation…tarnished.

I would like to say that was the end of me and the Bear adventures, but it wasn’t. This donkey was good for at least one more story. Tomorrow? How about, “OMW! You guys sprayed the weeds!? With poison?!”