Delighted Dominguey Wearies His Shetland
Yes, the poor suffering steed in this image is indeed a sweet Shetland pony, and he his horsey self has hailed from the family pasture upon one of the far northern Shetland Isles of Scotland. I would confidently opine that this sweating, toiling equine regularly and vehemently rues the day of his emigration, as he is now stuck supporting and suffering beneath doughy Dominguey on his many peregrinations, rather than placidly wandering with his herd mates along the rocky slopes above the North Sea, grazing on the sweet buds of the Shetland mouse-ear.
And, oh, how the small but steady sturdy stallion misses the many playmates of his youth! Those perky porcine pals, the Grice! The drooling, bounding, bow-wowing Shelties, chasing their bleating woolly herds over the rocks and rolling green knolls! The Black-Browed Albatross, the Bonxie and the Red-Throated Diver, each in turn plunging into the froth below for the freshest catch of the day! The Curlew! The Snipe! The Golden Plover!
Instead this poor quadruped must plod dutifully and achingly along, bearing the berobed bulk of a grinning and squinting near-bald bozo with delusions of grandeur.
Technically, this little unlucky laborer is skewbald — meaning that his chestnut-colored base coat of furred horsehide is splashed with occasional unpigmented white splotches — but he feels screwballed by his involuntary supporting role beneath hefty smiley Dominguey, he of the technicolored coat and spandex tights.
And, as one might expect, dopey Dominguey is clueless as to the pained plight of his hard-working mount. That’s because Dominguey has other things on his mind, to be sure.
Dominguey is delighted, for he has just this very week secured a prime plum of a position as Mid-Level Registrar of Households, Deeds, Familial Relationships, and Seasonal Rice Harvests of the 3rd Prefecture, 17th Rural Mountain Division of the Upper Tibetan Highlands, Southwestern People’s Republic. As such, he inherits an historic mantle that has passed unbroken for over 50 generations from the end of the Eastern Han Dynasty of China in the year 220.
Soon our steed may rest, as Dominguey will be arriving at his Registry. In mere days, Dominguey expects to begin collecting gifts, bribes, offerings of food and jewels and daughters (and sometimes sons as well), as the many peasants under his purview struggle and strive for influence and advantage with the sole ruling bureaucrat in their midst. He will dwell in a house grander than all others throughout the region, with a large koi pond, an ornamental gazebo, several large porches, and a meditation garden raked to perfection several times a day by a wizened old Buddhist (Dominguey’s great-uncle, in fact, being punished for the minor infraction of hoarding a single green onion with which to make some broth to supplement his daily ration of 3 ounces of boiled white rice.)
But the great grand grin arrayed across the lower half of Dominguey’s happy face is sure to be short-lived. For upon his investiture at tomorrow’s town square ceremonies, it will be made abundantly clear to the dupe that throughout more than 18 centuries of continuous administration, the role of Mid-Level Registrar has been perpetually held solely by eunuchs.
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