Lifted off his feet by the miniature donkey was humiliating enough. But landing six feet away in a pile of manure, well, there was nothing to be done about it now. The owner had just come around the corner.
The big paint, who clearly didn’t like him, and tolerated the trim around all four hooves today. He’d been whistling when he began on the donkey, but hadn’t paid any attention when the paint had touched muzzles with the donkey just after he’d top-dressed that last hind.