I will never, ever tire of watching my little herd come running up to the barn. These days, they're so busy enjoying the tasty pasture grass that I have to whistle them home for breakfast. As soon as they hear me, the stampede starts. They race up the well-worn path that stretches from the far reaches of the ranch to the barn. The burros run with their necks stretched out and noses up in the air, trying to catch the smells along the way.
When every morning starts like this, it's impossible to have a bad day.