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We had a recent discussion about burros and our Little One. This is a picture of a framed series of pictures of our children with their menagerie.
It is hard to take a picture through glass but it gives the idea.
In response to another post about a burro, I wrote the following brief history of our family's experience with a burro which was born on Thomas Road.
In 1982, a group contacted me soliciting financial support for the rescue of burros from the Grand Canyon. I told them If they would get me a pregnant jenny, I would give them some money. The jenny arrived one day, the colt was delivered the next day and the mother died the following day. The colt was named "Little One," and he became a treasured part of our family. We lived on Thomas Road at the time. He learned how to open our back door and wanted to be an indoor pet.
But the REAL story happened the day "Little One" was born. I started Texas A&M in 1961 to be a veterinarian. That day, an MD practiced DVM without a license. I delivered the colt and then delivered the placenta.
Having a sick sense of humor which causes me to laugh out loud as I wrote this, I decided to fling the placenta toward my son who had climbed up on the fence to see the event. Unfortunately, the placenta took wing and ended up wrapped around my son's neck and lower face.
I am genuinely repentant of the trauma but I express my repentance with a smile and a chuckle. "Little One" had to be moved to a farm several years later but he was a delight and my son has survived his ordeal.
PS: I re-read this and laughed out loud again. Memories make life meaningful. My mind runs through our aligator in our back yard; a monstor rooster which was a terror and which could out run little boys; my daughter's lamb which fell into the swimming pool while we weere on vacation; my wife in high heels leading two horses down Thomas Road after they had escaped; the night that i went in an hugged my kids, telling them how much I loved them, as I threw them into the swimming pool. And, the recollection of life goes on.
One last memory: my children and I had been up in the country shooting guns. Returning to Texas and Beaumont, we came upon a drivers' license check point. With five weapons on the back seat of my car, I dediced that the best thing to do was to alert the officers. I pulled off to the side of the road and approached the officers in a non-aggressive, non-threatning manner. I told them that my children were with me, showed them mhy license and thens aid, "if you approach my car, you will see five weapons on the back seat. They are not loaded and are used for recreational shooting." They smiled and said, "Go ahead." It is wonderful living in Texas.
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