He stands at the gate staring into the middle distance. It is a beautiful summer’s evening and the view of the valley below is stunning. He is far too tired to appreciate it. Every bone in his body aches. He chews the last mouthful of his meal. The food has certainly helped. He can feel some of his strength return. It has been a long day since seven this morning. They cleared three fields of hay. The half full shed is testimony to that. Back breaking work. No tractors or machinery here. Despite the pain, there is a sense of achievement.
He knows he is not popular among his workmates. Nobody questions his ability or his work ethic. He pulls his weight more than most. He is just cranky by nature. The heat makes him bad tempered. The work makes him bad tempered. The farmer only speaks to him when he has a job to do. The others ignore him most of the time. There is also the problem with his drinking. They believe he drinks far more than he should.
Outside of work, he is a loner by nature. He tried to make friends when he first arrived but, in truth, he has very little in common with the others. He knows he is not the sharpest tool in the shed. That is not why he is here. It is his brawn – not his brain – which the farmer is interested in. Indeed, the others may be a bit intimidated by his strength. Not that he is the aggressive type. Anyway, he prefers his own company. Any rare day off is spent on his own.
As for romance? Forget it. He hasn’t got within an ass’s bawl of a female body for many a long year. It wasn’t always like that. He still has fond memories of his youth. No shortage of female attention in those happy days. Frolicking in the fields. Warm summer nights spent under the stars. All gone. He is a confirmed bachelor now, whatever he likes it or not. The chances of finding a partner – never mind becoming a father – are very slim. Long lonely nights stretch ahead. He just has to get used to it.
At least his services are not required while the cows are getting milked. He is grateful for that. It gives him an opportunity to rest his weary bones. His bladder is full from the day’s drinking and is starting to ache. He urinates with gusto against the wall. He allows himself a quiet smile. He knows the others are annoyed that he drinks the lion’s share of the water left out by the farmer’s wife each morning. Big bucketfuls of pure spring water drawn from the well. One of life’s few pleasures. He sees the farmer approaching. The milking is finished and the milk cans are on the cart waiting to be brought to the creamery. He flicks his tail at a passing fly. A donkey’s work is never done.