Damon stood by the fence watching Circe walking away, she leaving him to living a duller style of life than what his fantasies for becoming a donkey, he had ever expected. Donkey lifestyle dealt with a lot of time standing, listening to his guts digesting what he had eaten. His boyish diet was mostly hamburgers, french fries, milkshakes, pizza, Mexican style fast foods, and soda pop. He would be if asked as tell about his not liking salads, but after he became a donkey, his diet turned to salad style eats of grasses, some fine and sweet, some coarse and sour. He ate hay, it dry but having a slightly sweet flavor. His daily rationed amount of mixed grain were like eating small nuts, the bits getting caught between teeth and snookered behind his thick lips.
Feeling a sense of dismay the young donkey lifted his face skyward and issued toward more heavenly powers his a bray.
Lowering his head and eyeing the ground, Damon plodded out into the pasture to like the other equines, partake of natures bounty.
Grazing, Damon discovered worked to help him forget his past and the present concerns of his living a less than wildly sexual existence. Grazing became a donkey talent, something to do to pass the daytime, as otherwise he would recall of human fun he did and being then a dull donkey, such fun was a sheer impossibility. Damon slipped with ease into the common mindset of being a male equine, as he would graze he felt a sense of joy. His joy like the excitement of mating produced a placid state of an erect cock hanging from out its sheath.
His tail was busy showing his sensed joys and trying hard to keep big horseflies from lighting on his rump and they taking a bite at his black puckered anal donut. Thoughts of Circe faded as did all worries about his loving parents, friends, and family, the people who came to sponge on a family for free food, and drinks.
The occasional other equine might see Damon and they feeling either playful or jealous might come to meet or greet him, being fun loving, or thinking to fight. This was his days, as was the regular needs of his body to discharge wastes. He felt dirty and was unwashed unless it rained. Damon noted how the horses were well kept, their smooth skin coats brushed and made pretty, while a donkey was ignored.
At times when placed in the barn stall, Damon would get all choked up about his menial lifestyle, and the conditions he was by being a common animal, forced to exist. Getting slowly more upset and feeling sad about his donkey self, Damon would try to cry, but equines don't cry, they accept their lives and go onward.