The crash of 'Dash Nash the Mighty Ass'

If you cross a male horse with a female donkey the resultant offspringis called a hinny.

If you cross a male donkey with a female horse, the resulting offspringis called a mule.

On this fine spring day we were about to create the latter. It seemsthat Oliver Nash wanted to enter a new twist in his breeding program. Heoften bragged that his mares were the strongest and hardest working stringof quarter horses in the country. He figured that this line should be crossedwith a good donkey to make some strong, hard-working mules.

"Dash" was the name given to the lucky stud donkey that wasabout to breed all 10 of 'ole Oliver's mares. He was a handsome critterwith a set of ears that would make any jackrabbit jealous. He was well built,and judging by his high-headed gait, was bubbling with confidence and credibility.I figured this fellow for about 3 years old and was informed that this washis first breeding season. Wow! What a lucky break for Dash; his first yearand already 10 beautiful women desiring his service! There was one distinctproblem though: size. The mighty Dash Nash was but a short fellow; "well-builtbut short," was the description Mr. Nash had put forth for his newass.

This was the reason I came into the life of "Dash Nash the MightyAss." (Kinda rolls off your tongue, doesn't it?)

My assignment was to engineer a way to get Dash high enough off the groundto breed the work-hardy mares. It wasn't going to be an easy assignment.There was about 24 inches discrepancy between Dash's best attempt to dateand the desired results. How was I going to get Dash 24 more inches andnot change the height of the mare?

We brainstormed for what seemed like hours. We tried putting the mareon the downside of a steep hill. This made the mare's fanny point upwardand simply compounded the problem. We tried digging a hole and putting themare's back feet in it. This made the mare's fanny point down and seemedto be a big turn-off to the mighty Dash. It seemed the only hope lay insomehow raising Dash. Finally, what seemed to be the perfect idea!

The vet clinic in Clarendon had an adjustable unloading ramp that wascapable of going from ground level all the way up to the second deck ofan 18-wheeler. We could just simply back the mare up to the unloading rampand just raise 'ole Dash up to meet her. What a great idea! It looked likeDash understood. When he saw the mare standing there in the parking lotwith her fanny backed up to the loading ramp that was exactly 24 inchesoff the ground, he shuddered with excitement. Mr. Nash had control of themare, and I was responsible for the Mighty Dash. Mr. Nash was bragging aboutthe mare; said that she was the most gentle mare he owned and would be agood one for Dash to start off with. I have to admit that she had been veryunderstanding in all of our previous attempts.

Dash seemed to know the moment had finally arrived. He let out the customary"donkey noise" as we approached the mare from the front. I ledhim to her head and let them smell around and get excited. Dash performedlike a true champ. By the time we went around the fence and started comingup the ramp, he was very excited. He looked like a groom headed for a honeymoon.Those big ears were standing straight up while every muscle in his bodywas rigid and shaking. Just as we hit the base of the ramp, Dash took offlike a shot. He let out an earth-shattering scream that resembled a youngboy going through puberty, and headed for the mare.

When I was in the fifth grade, Toby Dickerson, also a fifth grader, attemptedhis first dive off of the high dive. He was a thick fellow and not veryathletic. I will never forget the way it looked to see a pudgy fifth graderland so flat on a pool of water that he never even broke the surface. Itwas the most outstanding belly buster that had been seen in the world todate. It was nothing compared to what was about to happen that fateful springday in Clarendon.

Dash was in full stride by the time he hit the end of the ramp and preparedto start his mount. It was as if the mare had eyes in the back of her head.She could not have timed it any better. She gently made one large step tothe left and left Dash floating in the air. The floating did not last long.Dash crashed to the pavement with all four legs out to the side. He didthe splits with his front and back legs at the same time. The pavement wasjust slick enough to prevent any friction between hooves and the earth.It was not very often that a donkey touches its chest to the ground, especiallynot with this amount of force.

We had just witnessed the crash of Dash Nash the Mighty Ass. He cameup with an entirely different attitude. His ears were now down and touchinghis neck. No more puberty-laden "Tarzan" calls. No more shakingmuscles. No more excitement left in this ass. It seemed to have broken hisspirit. In fact, he never tried again.

I don't now what became of Dash. Mr. Nash said he stayed off to himselfa lot for a few weeks after the ramp incident. He never bred a mare at theNash house while I was there. I know he kept the critter in hopes of gettinga crop of mules the next year. I can still get a good laugh just thinkingabout the day. These words could never do justice to the moment. The lookon that donkey's face when he came up from those splits was priceless. Iguess he figured that those tall, hard-working women just weren't worththe effort.