A Donkey Called Mistletoe Read online

  1. The Back End of a Donkey

  2. Meeting Mistletoe

  3. A Donkey Sleepover

  4. Withers and Fetlocks

  5. One Crucial Question

  6. Getting to Know Each Other

  7. Like a Bucking Bronco

  8. Harrison Meets Mistletoe

  9. A Tattered Brown Envelope

  10. A Surprise

  11. The Donkey Costume

  12. Who’s Going to Be the Donkey?

  13. The Nativity Play

  14. The Best Christmas Surprise

  Jasmine and her best friend, Tom, were in the kitchen at Oak Tree Farm when Jasmine’s little brother, Manu, flung the door open and ran in, dropping his coat and schoolbag on the floor.

  “Guess what!” he said, an enormous grin on his face.

  “What?” asked Jasmine, glancing up from the chopping board. She was cutting up a carrot as a treat for Dotty, the pet deer she had recently rescued and adopted. Dotty only had three legs, which meant she couldn’t live in the wild, but she managed very well in the orchard.

  “Where’s Dad?” asked Manu. “I want to tell you all together.”

  “In his office,” said Jasmine.

  Their dad was the farmer at Oak Tree Farm. He worked outdoors most of the time but he had an office in the house where he did all his paperwork.

  “Oh, good,” said Manu, running out of the room. “I’ll go get him. I’ve got the best news.”

  Jasmine’s mom, Dr. Singh, walked into the kitchen and hung up her car keys. Mom was a vet, and she had picked up Manu from his after-school soccer club on her way home from the office.

  “Hey, you two,” she said. “I bet you’re happy it’s Friday.”

  “Yep,” said Jasmine. “We’re going to spend lots of time with Dotty and Truffle this weekend. Try to cheer them up.”

  Truffle, Jasmine’s pet pig, lived with Dotty in the orchard.

  “Do you think they’re any better today?” asked Mom.

  “No,” said Jasmine flatly. “They’re still lying down all the time, and they’ve hardly touched their food.”

  Until last week, Jasmine’s dad’s elderly spaniel, Bramble, had lived in the orchard, too. But Bramble hadn’t been very well for the past few months, and on Monday she had died in her sleep.

  Mom had tried to comfort Jasmine. “She was very old for a spaniel. And she had a lovely life. She got to spend every day running around the farm with Dad, and when she wasn’t with him she had Truffle and Dotty to keep her company.”

  But Jasmine was inconsolable. She was very upset about Bramble, but she was even sadder for Truffle and Dotty. They always used to run and greet her every time she came to see them. Truffle would grunt with happiness and flop over to have her tummy tickled. Dotty would lick Jasmine’s hand and nuzzle against her. But since Bramble had passed, they just lay on the grass all day. Truffle kept her head down and Dotty curled herself up into a ball. They didn’t even look up when Jasmine approached. Most worrying of all, they showed no interest in food.

  “We’re giving them carrots and grapes,” Tom told Jasmine’s mom. “We tried apples, but they didn’t want them.”

  Just then, Manu came back, dragging Dad by the hand.

  “So what’s this amazing news, then?” asked Mom.

  “We found out our parts in the annual nativity play,” said Manu, “and guess what me and Ben are going to be?”

  “Shepherds?” asked Mom.

  Manu grinned and shook his head. “No.”

  “Wise Men?” asked Dad.

  Jasmine snorted. “Wise Men? Those two? As if.”

  “Angels?” said Mom, and everybody laughed.

  “Sheep?” suggested Tom.

  Manu smiled knowingly. “Getting closer.”

  “Cows?” said Tom. “Pigs?”

  Jasmine shook her head. “They’re not clever enough to be pigs.”

  Manu could contain himself no longer. “We’re the donkey!” he burst out.

  Dad roared with laughter. “Well, that makes perfect sense.”

  “Mrs. Cowan’s going to get an actual donkey costume,” said Manu, looking as if he might burst with excitement. “Ben’s going to be the front legs and the head and I’m going to be the back legs.”

  “Well, this is definitely an event that will need to be recorded,” said Dad. “We must make sure we get front-row seats.”

  “We’re doing a special performance for the people at Holly Tree House the week before we do the one for the rest of the town. And we’re going to have afternoon tea with the residents after the play,” said Manu. “Everyone’s going to sing ‘Little Donkey’ when me and Ben come in. Except Harrison. He won’t sing. He doesn’t even want to be in the play.”

  Harrison was a new boy in Manu’s class. Manu and his best friend, Ben, had made friends with him right away. Jasmine’s family had heard a lot about Harrison lately. Harrison was autistic and he liked things to be calm and orderly, so it was very strange, Jasmine thought, that Harrison would want to be friends with her brother. But the boys had bonded over a shared love of bugs, and now they seemed to spend most of their recesses making homes for insects on the school field.

  “Can Harrison come over?” asked Manu. “He says there’ll be lots of good bugs here, because of all the dung.”

  “I like the sound of Harrison,” said Dad. “Not everybody appreciates the finer qualities of farm manure.”

  “Of course he can come,” said Mom. “I’ll text his mother.”

  “Will Ella be home in time for the play?” asked Manu. “I really want her to see it.”

  Ella was Jasmine and Manu’s older sister, and she was away at college.

  “I’m sure she’ll be there if she can,” said Mom. “I can’t believe my son’s going to be the back end of a donkey. I’ve never been more proud.”

  On Saturday morning, Tom and Jasmine took grapes and pears out to the orchard. Truffle ate half-heartedly. Dotty just sniffed the pieces and turned away.

  Jasmine sighed. “Look at her sad eyes. I don’t think she’ll ever feel better.”

  “It’s only been a week,” said Tom. “Your mom said they should improve soon.”

  “But what if they don’t? What if they keep refusing to eat?”

  “Do you think your dad will get another dog?” asked Tom.

  Jasmine shook her head. “Manu wants a puppy, but Dad said no because of Sky.”

  Sky was a collie that Jasmine had rescued as a puppy. He belonged to her, but because he was a sheepdog, he spent a lot of time on the farm with Dad.

  “And Mom says we’ve got more than enough pets as it is,” said Jasmine.

  As well as Truffle, Dotty, and Sky, Jasmine had two cats called Toffee and Marmite, a tame duck called Button, and a sheep called Lucky. Button lived with the chickens in the farmyard and Lucky lived with the other sheep in the field, though, so they didn’t make any extra work.

  When the children went in for lunch, Jasmine’s dad said, “I’m going to do a few jobs for Mr. Hobson at Honey Farm this afternoon. Would you two like to come along?”

  “Can we meet his donkey?” asked Jasmine.

  “Of course,” said Dad.

  “Then we’ll come,” said Jasmine. “Won’t we, Tom?”

  “Definitely,” said Tom.

  Dad had told Jasmine about Mr. Hobson. He lived close to Oak Tree Farm. He was very old now, and Dad had recently started helping him out with odd jobs. Mr. Hobson had had to sell most of his animals, but he had kept Mistletoe, his pet donkey.

  When they got to Honey Farm, Dad introduced Jasmine and Tom to the old farmer.

  “Mistletoe’s very friendly,” Mr. Hobson said. “He’ll love you making a fuss
over him. Just approach him from the side, and talk to him as you approach so you don’t startle him.”

  Jasmine and Tom left the adults to chat and walked across the yard to Mistletoe’s field. Tom had brought a carrot for him and Jasmine had an apple, which they carried in their pockets. They stopped at the gate and scanned the field.

  “There he is!” said Tom, pointing.

  At the far end of the meadow, near a wooden barn, a small brown donkey was looking over the fence into the next field, where two floppy-eared goats and a group of hens were gathered.

  “Come on,” said Jasmine, climbing over the gate.

  In the middle of the field, they passed a single tree. Its branches were bare, but a huge clump of mistletoe, with bright-green leaves and fat pearly-white berries, hung from a high branch.

  “Look!” said Tom. “I wonder if that’s how the donkey got his name.”

  “Hello, Mistletoe,” said Jasmine as they slowly approached. “How are you today?”

  Mistletoe had deep-brown eyes and a patient, gentle expression. His coat was all brown except for the tip of his nose, which was pure white, and a long black cross on his back.

  “He’s great,” said Tom, stroking the donkey’s dark mane. “He’s got such a kind-looking face. And beautiful eyes.”

  “He looks very thoughtful, doesn’t he?” said Jasmine, patting Mistletoe’s flank.

  “Huge ears,” said Tom, stroking the long pointed ears, brown on the outside and white on the inside, that stood straight up on the top of the donkey’s head, facing attentively forward. Mistletoe nuzzled his arm.

  “Look, he really likes me,” said Tom.

  Jasmine laughed. “I think he can smell the carrot.”

  Sure enough, the donkey started to nuzzle the pocket of Tom’s coat. “You’ll have to move your head away, Mistletoe,” said Tom, “or I won’t be able to get it.”

  Jasmine took the apple from her pocket and, holding it out with her palm flat, offered it to Mistletoe. He snatched it up and crunched noisily. When he finished, he started nuzzling Tom’s pocket again. Tom held the carrot toward him. The donkey grabbed it and Tom hastily let go as Mistletoe pulled the whole thing into his mouth. He crunched it contentedly as Jasmine and Tom stroked his soft coat.

  “He seems really peaceful,” said Tom.

  Suddenly Mistletoe lifted his head, pricked up his ears, and looked toward the farmyard. Jasmine and Tom followed his gaze and saw Mr. Hobson driving across the yard on his special all-terrain mobility scooter. The donkey brayed so loudly that Jasmine and Tom laughed in surprise. They followed him as he trotted to the gate to greet his friend.

  Mr. Hobson opened the gate and drove into the field. The mobility scooter had big tires for driving across rough ground. Tom looked at it enviously.

  Mistletoe put his nose in Mr. Hobson’s lap. The farmer stroked him.

  “How are you this morning, old boy? Have you been behaving yourself for these two?”

  “He’s been perfect,” said Jasmine. “And he really liked the treats.”

  Mr. Hobson laughed. “I bet he did. He loves his food, this one. He’s getting too fat, having all this grass to himself.”

  “Does he like those goats and chickens?” asked Tom.

  “He seems to. He spends a lot of time looking at them over the fence. I think he’s been lonely since I had to sell the sheep. Donkeys are very sociable, so if they don’t have another donkey around, they’ll look for other animals to bond with.”

  “How old is he?” asked Tom.

  “Nearly twenty. I’ve had him since he was a foal.”

  Tom looked alarmed. Bramble had been fifteen when she died.

  Mr. Hobson saw the look on Tom’s face. “Don’t worry, twenty isn’t that old for a donkey. They generally live to thirty, and some of them go on until fifty.”

  “Did you ever ride him?” asked Jasmine.

  “No, I got him to protect the lambs against foxes. Donkeys are good guard animals for sheep. But he’s always been more of a pet, really. And he’s too old to start being ridden now.”

  “Is it true that all donkeys have a black cross on their backs?” asked Tom.

  “Every donkey in the whole world. There’s a legend that says it’s because of their connection with Jesus. One version says the donkey that carried Jesus into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday went and stood beside him on his cross, and the shadow of the cross fell across the donkey’s back and shoulders. But some scientists think it’s for camouflage, the same way that tigers’ stripes help them blend into their surroundings.”

  “He’s so nice,” said Tom, stroking Mistletoe’s mane.

  “He’s the sweetest donkey you could ever hope to meet,” said Mr. Hobson. “I’m really going to miss him.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Jasmine.

  Mr. Hobson sighed. “I was just telling your dad. It’s gotten to the point where I can’t look after him properly, and it’s not fair to Mistletoe. I pay a girl to help out, but it’s not much of a life for him. He loves company, and he’s spending too much time on his own.”

  “So what are you going to do?” asked Jasmine.

  “Well, I’m moving into Holly Tree House next month,” said Mr. Hobson. Holly Tree House was an assisted-living place in town. “I’ve finally had to face the fact that I can’t really manage on my own anymore. It’s very nice of your dad and other people to come and help out, but they’re all busy and I don’t want to be a burden.”

  Jasmine couldn’t think of anything to say. It seemed so awful that Mr. Hobson thought of himself as a burden.

  “And Mistletoe will go to the animal sanctuary in Latchford,” he said. “They phoned me this morning to say they can pick him up in two weeks.”

  “But isn’t that miles away?” asked Tom.

  “It’s a fair distance. I don’t expect I’ll ever see him again.”

  The old man looked so sad that Jasmine couldn’t bear it.

  “But me and Tom have an animal sanctuary,” she said. “On our farm.”

  Mr. Hobson looked at her in surprise. So did Tom.

  “Well, we do,” said Jasmine, seeing Tom’s look. “I mean, we’re going to have an animal sanctuary when we’re grown up. But we already do, really. We’ve rescued lots of animals.”

  This was true. As well as the animals that had stayed on the farm, Jasmine and Tom had rescued and then released or found homes for a baby goat, a kitten, and two sparrow chicks, along with an otter cub and a barn owl.

  “But you’re not allowed to have any more pets,” said Tom.

  Jasmine glared at him. “Yes, I am.”

  She smiled at Mr. Hobson. “Honestly, we’d love to have Mistletoe. And then you could come and see him all the time.”

  Mr. Hobson patted her hand. “You’re very kind, but you mustn’t worry. I’m sure he’ll be well looked after. Now, tell me all about your animals. Your dad says you’ve got a deer in the orchard. How’s she doing?”

  “She was doing really well until Dad’s spaniel died last week. Bramble was like a mom to Dotty, and now Dotty’s pining for her. So’s Truffle, my pig. They all lived together, you see.”

  Jasmine and Tom talked with Mr. Hobson until they had to leave. As they walked to Dad’s truck, Jasmine turned to look back at the old man and the donkey. Mistletoe had laid his head in Mr. Hobson’s lap. Mr. Hobson was scratching Mistletoe’s ears and speaking to him softly. And then Jasmine saw something that sent a stab of pain through her heart.

  Mr. Hobson’s eyes were full of tears.

  Back at Oak Tree Farm, Tom and Jasmine sat side by side on Jasmine’s bed. She had her mom’s laptop, and Tom had her dad’s.

  “We need to research everything about donkey care,” she said. “Then we can show Mom and Dad we know all about donkeys and they’ll let Mistletoe come and live here.”

  “But your parents won’t let you have him. You just got Dotty, and they said no more animals.”

  “That’s the whole point, though, isn
’t it? Dotty and Truffle are missing Bramble, and Mistletoe will be missing Mr. Hobson. So they can all make friends, and then they’ll cheer one another up.”

  Tom looked thoughtful. “That might work. He seemed to like those goats and chickens in the next field. OK, so let’s find out how to look after donkeys.”

  The first thing he discovered was that, unlike horses, donkeys don’t have a waterproof coat.

  “So they need to be able to shelter from the rain. But there isn’t a barn in the orchard, so he couldn’t live with Dotty and Truffle.”

  Dotty and Truffle slept in Bramble’s kennel. It was a big kennel, but not big enough for a donkey.

  Jasmine was looking at Tom’s screen. “It says a three-sided shelter is fine. Dad could build one. He’s good at building stuff. And it could be my Christmas present.”

  Tom kept reading. “It says they should eat mainly barley straw, because it’s high in fiber and low in sugar, and it’s close to what they would eat in the wild.”

  “That’s perfect! We always have lots of barley straw for the cows and sheep.”

  “And they need a mineral block to lick.”

  “He’s got one,” said Jasmine. “I saw it in the barn. So we could take that with us. I could ask for another one for Christmas. The one he’s got should last until then.”

  “Apart from that, they just need clean water, and they browse for food in the fields,” said Tom. “It says it’s good for them to share a field with other animals.”

  “For company?”

  “Well, mainly because they get fat if they have too much grass. But they do need company, too, which is perfect for Dotty and Truffle.”

  Jasmine raised her eyebrows at him. “See, you like the idea now, don’t you?”

  “Well, it would be really nice having them all living together. And donkeys don’t seem that hard to look after.”

  “It says here they need their hooves trimmed by a farrier every six to ten weeks, to stop them from getting overgrown,” said Jasmine. “I don’t know how much that costs. But if I ask all my relatives for money for Christmas, hopefully I’ll get enough to pay for the farrier’s visits until my birthday.”