When World War II ended, farmers switched to the sudden surplus of Jeeps and turned their donkeys loose on the lava flows, Duerr said.
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They thrived in the wild until the Kona Coast began to erupt with hotels and golf courses. Eventually most of them were resettled in Waikoloa, where they roamed free until, once again, they became a nuisance, breaking down barriers and foraging close to roads and residential areas. Meyers and his wife oversaw the airlift, flying from Texas to Hawaii and then to Los Angeles.
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Meyers said he wanted to make sure things were done right. He personally loaded most of the animals in Hawaii, he said. It is not only inaccurate, he says, but a disservice to a breed that helped build America in its first century.
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Donkey Derby | Amy Leach
Catherine Saillant. Catherine Saillant is a former reporter for the Los Angeles Times. More From the Los Angeles Times.
Passenger numbers continue to rise at Hollywood Burbank Airport. A one-year subscription to A Public Space includes three issues of the magazine as well as access to the online archive and membership in a dynamic community of readers and writers. General Information general apublicspace. Usually all we have to do when we go a-conquering is to build a boat, find a benefactress, recruit a ribald crew, and wear radiant glinting helmets.
Subscribers Log in to read the rest. Ending up in Newport, Rhode Island was a fluke. Not all of Newport, Ellen learned. Not the narrow streets where tourists wore lobster bibs and dripped butter. Not the harbor where junk boats were bogged down by seagulls. But, yes, the cliff walk that divided the mansions from the ocean, where on her second day she found a dead bird on the path, not just a bird but a duck, not just a duck but a hooded merganser.
Her grandfather hunted. The dead duck fit into her backpack. But there was a delicacy to taxidermy that differed from preparing an animal to be food. She found a dead pigeon by the trash at the back of the house a few days later, cleaned it, stuffed it, and implanted a series of tiny screws in its neck.
They almost blended into the feathers, but not completely. Within a week, she accumulated ten birds. It was surprising how you could find dead birds when you were looking. When Ellen finished, each bird was messy, but had its own small shock: the sequins, one hawk talon affixed to the spindle leg of a chimney swift, the red plastic tips of push pins just surfacing from the eyes of a starling. She mounted each to dumpster plywood onto which she transcribed full chapters from The Great Gatsby.
Her life to this point had been a series of nothings and ridiculous internal monologues. Should I masturbate while my roommate is out? She just did.