George is a burro we inherited when we purchased a bull. The old man who sold the bull to us told my husband the burro and bull were buddies. He said whenever George was separated from the bull he'd open gates and go through fences to get back with him. We thought the man was just working my husband's sympathies.
We brought George home and put him in the field with the horses and he never got out or tried to buddy up with the bull. I think the old man was feeding the bull better than the horses and that's why George would find a way into that pasture. And poor George had hooves that curled up and had been hacked off with a saw. Our horse shoer took one look at his hooves and said, "This is going to be a work in progress." He was right. It took over a year of the shoer coming out on a regular basis and whittling away at George's hooves so the little burro now walks right and has the proper size and shape of hooves.
When my friend and photo journalist, Danita Cahill, came to take pictures for my diary in Farm and Ranch magazine, George was in rare form. George followed me when I rode Bud and gave her several candid shots of him picking up the saddle blanket and playing with the tack.
Remember, I told you the person we acquired George from said he couldn't be kept in a pasture? Well, he stays in if it suits his purpose. He has never gotten out of any pasture he's in with the other horses. But, if I go riding with Bud and don't let George follow, he eventually shows up. Half way through a ride, he'll arrive trotting behind Bud. I'm not even sure how he gets out because I've yet to find any holes in the fence or the gate open.
George has given our family hours of entertainment from his echoing bray to his mischievous nature. There have been many times when I've suggested we change his name to Houdini, but you know, George fits him just fine.