The brays that Matt produced in his fevered panic sounded alike. Each utterance the same as the one before it and the ones that came after. The man holding Matt's bridle didn't bother to interpret them. They were brays – the god-awful sound that a lowly donkey makes. They were not in the least communicative.
The man used a water hose to give Matt a shallow cleaning. He knocked the worst of the filth and excrement from the donkey hide and fur. Finding his effort sufficient to meet the farmer's instructions, the man next introduced the new acquisition to the farm's other donkeys. There was a lot of work on the farm, and the farmer found keeping beasts of burden cheaper than mechanical farm equipment and its related fuel and maintenance costs.
The hired hand corralled Matt into a holding pen adjacent to the large barn. Upon entering, Matt found himself in the company of three other donkeys. Big, ungainly gray beasts with long snouts, longer ears, slender legs ending in insensate hooves, and dumb, expressionless eyes. A simple sniff and a quick scan confirmed that all of the other donkeys were males with heavy black balls inadequately concealed by thin, rope-like tails.
He was identical to them. He knew it for a certainty. For the man holding his bridle, Matt was no different than these others unkempt asses. None of them had grown fat in service to the farmer. They worked too hard for that to be a problem. The frame of ribs showed through their tight hides. The farmer had to keep them fueled, too, but he had shortcuts with the donkeys that couldn't be taken with machines needing oil and petrol. He could buy just enough hay to provide for them and let them find the rest of their food by grazing.
The established donkeys paid him little attention. A couple of them stood over a feed trough piled with hay mixed with a lot of cheaper filler straw.
Matt suddenly didn't want to be here. He swung his big head and turned back, but the man had shut a gate behind him.
"Let me out!" Errr-Hawww!
"I don't belong here!" Errr-Hawww!
His brays must have caught the attention of one of the other donkeys. It trotted toward him. It brayed in response to his brays. The brays it produced sounded exactly the same as the ones Matt made.
A swarm of flies encircled its head, a buzzing crown that followed like a shadow. With flicks of its ears, the other donkey scattered the insects for a few seconds, but they quickly reassembled.
The other donkey smelled. It smelled so bad!
"Get away!" Errr-Hawww!
"What have I done?" Errr-Haww!
Matt swung his huge head, trying to ignore the ugly donkey. Another of the donkeys wandered closer.
He tried to swing his head away and ignore them. He couldn't stand to look at them. They looked repulsive to him.
He lifted his front legs and stomped his hooves down hard on the ground. He was trying to free his hands and fingers. But they were no longer there to be freed. He had hooves, just like the other donkeys in the pen.
The man reached over the rails of the pen and cuffed the jack's head. "Get on with yourself and quit that hollering," the man said.
"Help!" Errrr-HAWW!
"Help me!" ERR-Hawww!