Who is the Luckiest - The Burros or Me?

Laurie Ford, a dedicated volunteer with the American Wild Horse Conservation (formerly American Wild Horse Campaign), shares her heartfelt experiences with rescued burros. These resilient animals, known for their exceptional memories and forgiving nature, have profoundly impacted her life. Through adoption, rescue, sponsorship, and volunteering, Laurie has found happiness and purpose in providing a safe haven for these remarkable creatures.

While humans often struggle with forgiveness, burros are quite the opposite. They never consider themselves in the wrong but are usually willing to forgive humans. Burros have exceptional memories, yet they prefer to focus on the present and anticipate a brighter future. This forgiving nature allows them to move on from even the most horrendous situations and embrace a new, blissful life.

We all love stories with happy endings. There is a way that everyone can help make this possible through adoption, rescue, sponsorship, and volunteering. I have chosen to do all four. But it is the burros I rescued, now part of my family, that have brought me immense happiness in the final chapter of my life.

I don’t know all the details about the past of my rescue burros, except what snippets reveal about the trauma and abuse they have survived. Each one possesses a unique dark story, yet they all share a common happy ending—living out their lives in a safe and loving home.

Meet the Rescued Burros

Jeff arrived when he was barely three years old after being rescued from the kill pens. The rope burns on his swollen knees never go away, and he spends a great deal of time lying down. Here in the west, a different breed of cowboy exists—one who uses burros for roping practice. Burros, being intelligent creatures, quickly learn that if they don’t run, they won’t get yanked to the ground. Once the rope encircles their neck or feet, they simply stand rooted to the ground, often leading to their sale and slaughter.

Cat was abandoned and found wandering aimlessly between public and private lands. In New Mexico, with vast wilderness and forests, horses and burros are routinely cast off to fend for themselves. Many are incapable of surviving on their own and die.

Mommy came from a small herd of wild burros that had lived in the area for decades. Locals would occasionally cull the herd to acquire a pet for the kids, keeping the herd size around 20. When a grazing allotment changed hands, the new owner rounded them up. By the time I discovered what had happened, they had been sold at a roping event. Despite offering to buy back the burros, the only one I could locate was Mommy. Six months later, she gave birth to a "dummy baby" that she rejected, likely due to stress-induced cortisol affecting fetal development.

Ricky lived with an old paint mare in a field with almost no human contact for over a decade. When the owner passed away, they were sent to a rescue where he needed anesthesia to get his hooves trimmed. No one could approach Ricky, so I offered to work with him. Almost three years later, he is still here.

Andy was found in a tiny pen with mud up to his knees and no food or water. He looked like he had been hit by a vehicle. The owner claimed he had to keep him confined because he kept escaping. To this day, he has not tried to escape once from my fields, even when the gate is left wide open.

Braveheart and Mr. K. had a joyous reunion because burros truly do not forget friends and family. Braveheart was one of three jennies I bought after she was rounded up in the Kaibab National Forest and sold on Craigslist. Three years later, a woman asked me to take Mr. K because she could no longer care for him. I soon discovered he came from the same herd as Braveheart. Occasionally, they cannot resist the urge to be wild and free again but always return home by sunset.

Burros do not like uncertainty. Now they know what is coming—food, shelter, love, and the occasional treat—and they never forget who made this happy ending possible.

Their happy ending has contributed to my own happiness, and every day I ask myself who is the luckiest—the burros or me?

_{Laurie Ford is a wildlife photographer and burro lover extraordinaire. She lives in New Mexico.}