When we went to Missouri last April to meet our new mules Larry and Katie, we did not come with certain expectations. We were happy to meet the people I had talked to through the internet, and the longears Loren Basham found for us. We could just as well have had the highest expectations- because they would have been more than met. The whole experience was just wonderful from beginning to end. Our friend Cindy met us with a selfmade mule sign at the airport, the Bashams were as excited as we were, everyone was happy to meet us and visit with us. It was all pretty overwhelming. A life time experience!

When the mules arrived at our home here in Germany last June, we were careful not to expect too much of them too soon. They needed to get used to everything first. Well, somebody should have talked to my mule Katie, because obviously she came with the highest expectations ever to Germany! She had come to see things, do stuff! When we were in Missouri, I rode her every day, and on the last days we went on the trail. Weird enough, although Katie had only seen me for ten days in April, she literally came home to me wearing a very satisfied facial expression that seemed to say “ah, there you are! Took me awhile to get here, but here I am!”. She picked it up right where we left it, and stood at the gate at 6am the morning after they had arrived from their 24h trip to Germany. She wasn’t fazed by anything and wanted to get going right away! It took only a few days for her to convince Larry, and from then on they both waited at the gate whenever they saw us.

To give you an idea of how we live here, the gate is about 30 feet from our front door. The pasture is behind our house, and the second pasture in front of our house. So the mules are never far from us. This is of course great- if they wouldn’t give me a guilty conscience so easily! We had thought the mules would pretty much live like horses, there in their pen and pasture, munching their hay and do what mules do. Obviously I had no idea what mules do, or Katie had her own ideas and planted them into her brother in arms’ brain, Larry, too. Little by little, they ganged up on me. It all started innocently enough by Katie watching the house for signs of life. Once she was sure somebody’s at home (“Larry, I tell you she’s home. We saw her coming in the big blue car, and she hasn’t gone out again with the dog, so she must be home!”) she planted herself in front of the gate and pierced our front door with a stare that I thought I could feel while drinking coffee at the kitchen table. I used to drink that coffee after coming home from work in the early afternoon on the porch in our swing. Needless to say, I stopped doing that, because who can relax when being stared at by two longears?! At first I abandoned my coffee and went to scratch ears, pat necks, and smooth fur. Then when I returned to my coffee it would be cold. I told myself not to be silly, and moved to the kitchen table. I did that for a week, and then I gave up. Coffee just doesn’t taste good if you are that selfish! Now I come home, put on an old jacket and go scratching ears. Thankfully this is just as relaxing as a cuppa on the porch!

After this small success for the mules things went downhill pretty fast. Next to go were the weekends. My husband Steph likes to sleep a little longer and hang out at breakfast on weekends and the mules do not. Of course they know when it’s the weekend (Katie must have explained that to Larry) and they watch the first story windows for signs of life. Once they’ve seen we’re up (one of us being silly enough to sneak up to a window and peek through the glass to see what the mules are doing or just pass by a window…”Oh no, hon, now they’ve seen me and are already at the gate!”) we can feel their piercing stare at the breakfast table. It’s the weekend, and time to ride! Nobody outside with saddles and tack by 10am at the latest means Katie will dig a deep hole in front of the gate and stand in that hole, looking silly with her front feet down and her butt up in the air. Once we have saddled up, we discuss where to go. Still having no trailer to drive out with, we have limited possibilities. This is difficult, as Katie of course has very high expectations for the trail too! It should not be a trail we have ridden several times already (very funny- we have to ride the same trails again and again of course!), and if possible we should meet neighbours doing interesting things (I have no self respect left and will ask perfectly strange people if we can come into their yard so that my mule can have a look at their dog/ their kids/ their tools). If the trail is boring Katie will make it interesting by looking out for things to make a fuss about. Last time she chose a tree trunk that had always been there. We passed that again on our way back, and as I was leading her so that she could dry her sweaty coat I took the opportunity to walk her up to the tree trunk we could hardly pass on our way to. “Here,” I said, “it’s just a tree trunk, see?”. Katie looked at me as if I were a perfect idiot. Of course that was only a tree trunk! What had I thought it was?!

Of course it’s our fault our mules are bored. From their pen they can only see all our neighbours, the bus going by, the kids coming back from kindergarten, the newspaper being delivered, the postman, you get the picture. Our mules also have hay all day, which they eat out of hay nets to keep them busy. They get branches from trees to gnaw on (only the kind suitable for them of course). They go in the pasture for an hour in the evenings during winter although to save the pasture they probably shouldn’t. They get brushed and loved on everyday. It’s just that Katie thinks we should ride everyday too. Thank God she doesn’t know how to operate a telephone, or she would probably call animal control and tell them we don’t ride our mules often or long enough, ever!

While writing this I have been in hiding for three days already. I’m home from work with the flu. Of course the mules show no mercy. They know I’m home, and between them eating hay and taking naps I can feel their stares pierce the front door. Yes, I have been out to brush them, with a hacking cough and a runny nose. Have to keep the poor mules from feeling neglected, right? When Steph comes home in the evening, we’ll put them in the pasture. Until then I try to cough as silently as possible. If anyone asks- I’m not home!!