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‘So who are Jack and Jennet?’

‘Jack’s the term for a male donkey. The girls are called jennets. They’ll be out in the paddock — there’s a door so they can come and go as they please.’ She pointed to the little hatch cut into the side of the barn. ‘But Ernie here, he’s nosey, aren’t you, boy?’ She held her hand out to him, then smiled as he lipped her palm and turned his head so she’d scratch his favourite spot. She couldn’t help but notice that he kept one eye firmly on Rick. Not that she blamed the little donkey.

‘He’s cute. Totally reel-worthy. Can he do any tricks?’

‘Like sniff out a sugar cube anywhere on you?’ Angela didn’t like the question.

‘I was thinking more . . . showy than that? Like count? Or jump over stuff? Maybe pull a little cart with something cute inside, like a bunny?’

‘Why would he need to do something like that?’

‘Coz it would get lots of stars and kudos.’

Angela shook her head. ‘I’m pretty sure every word in that sentence was English, but I still don’t understand it.’

‘You know, kudos and stars. Likes and ratings?’

Angela shook her head again.

‘Social media? YouTube, TikTok, Insta. You upload videos people like, and they give you stars and likes and kudos.’

‘What’s the point of that?’

‘Money.’ Rick laughed at her.

It didn’t make sense to Angela, who shook her head again. ‘My animals don’t do circus tricks.’ Ernie added to her disdain with a huffing grumble aimed in Rick’s direction.

‘So he lays around eating all day with three women at his beck and call?’ He reached out a hand towards the donkey. ‘You got it made, mate.’ He yanked his hand back when big yellowed teeth snapped where his fingers had just been.

‘Ernie works really hard.’ Angela grinned. ‘He’s great at teaching people to mind their manners.’

‘So I see,’ Rick replied wryly.

‘He also helps disengaged children learn how to read, and helps people with mental health problems. And this—’ she leaned down to breathe gently in the donkey’s nostrils ‘—is how you say “hello” to a donkey.’

‘Are you having me on?’

‘Nope.’ She could feel him watching her for a few seconds while she focussed on Ernie, letting him snuffle her all over before turning his attention to Rick. ‘Gently.’

After a few more moments, he leaned over to follow her advice, blowing on one of her favourite residents, who snuffled, wheezed and then huffed back at Rick. After a few seconds he head-butted him, shoving his nose under Rick’s hand. ‘Guess maybe he thinks I’m not that bad.’ Rick grinned.

‘So it seems.’ Angela tried not to feel offended at how easily Ernie had taken to him. It was probably novelty value. She’d had to reduce a lot of the sanctuary’s business over the last few weeks, which meant she wasn’t getting the funds in, and the animals weren’t getting their usual visitors.

She gave herself a mental shake. Ernie might be happy with his new friend, but she had other animals who needed her.

* * *

Rick took a few shots of himself with Ernie, who had grinned obligingly, seemingly enjoying the attention. He flicked through them quickly, picked out his favourites, and uploaded them. He briefly looked for the sanctuary’s links to hashtag them, but gave up when he couldn’t find it easily. Instead, he flipped over to his own feed and started scrolling through comments. He was so involved in his feed that he didn’t hear or see Angela return.

‘I know your phone is utterly fascinating, but I’m pretty sure whoever is on there can wait. I’m here with you, and we have a patient. If you’re really going to be here to help, then it would be easier if you put the dumb phone down and paid attention — otherwise I might be tempted to drop it in the duck pond.’

‘It’s waterproof.’

‘Would you like to test that theory?’ She put down the bag of straw she’d been carrying and limped back out.

Whatever. He shook his head and tucked the phone away before turning his attention back to the little donkey. ‘So how exactly do you help people with depression and reading?’

‘It’s called Donkey Supported Activities.’ Angela hobbled back into the barn, this time with only one of her crutches, carrying the not-a-duck in what he now knew was its transport cage. Feeling guilty, he disentangled himself from his new donkey friend and went over to help. He didn’t complain when Angela shoved the cage into his arms, making it easier for her to open it and retrieve the not-a-duck.