Peaceful Valley Donkey Rescue in Tehachapi, CA, has a strict adoption policy to ensure that the animals they rescue go only to people who understand their work and look upon animals as they do.
"All animals that are not adoptable for any reason will live out their lives with us. PVDR makes no guarantees as to the soundness of the animals nor do we provide animals that have any special skills. Our animals come from various backgrounds that range from minot neglect to serious abuse. These animals deserve a home with love and without high expectaitions.
Peaceful Valley has gathered upward of 2,000 abused and neglected donkeys from across the United States, resettling them in sanctuaries in Oklahoma, Texas and California, where they are rehabilitated, then farmed out in small groups to 15 satellites, or adoption centers.
Darlene Waldin, in Craig County, Virginia, has four foster donkeys on her property in Craig County, with the intention of getting more as this group is adopted out. All four were abused or neglected at a previous home
Waldin's is Peaceful Valley's newest satellite and its the only one in Virginia, with the idea being that she gets more donkeys to foster as soon as the ones she has now are adopted out. It's therefore her job to sell the public on the merits of donkey stewardship while making sure prospective adopters are committed animal advocates who are in it for the long haul. (Donkeys can live from 40 to 60 years.)
Started 11 years ago by Californians Mark and Amy Meyers, Peaceful Valley is now the largest equine rescue in the United States. The group takes in donkeys from across the country, from domesticated pets who have outgrown their owners' fancy to wild burros found along the Mexican border.
"Donkeys typically don't have a monetary value, so they're often forgotten," said Tracy Miller, a farrier who is the organization's Western regional manager.
Brought into the United States by Spaniards in the 1800s, donkeys were used as miners' helpers because they were small enough to navigate narrow mine shafts. Budding railroads used them as beasts of burden, too, loading them with food and supplies. "When railroads and mining went bust, donkeys were turned out to fend for themselves," Miller said.
"They were a big part of building this country, but they don't get the credit they deserve."
The art of donkey handling is vanishing, he added, as the number of ranches dwindles and more donkeys end up unwanted on suburban ranchettes. "We have donkeys that have been used for target practice," Miller said.
"Once you get them gentled, they're basically 500-pound puppy dogs. You can sit down amid of herd of 100 wild donkeys, knowing that any one of them has the potential to kick or even kill you, and yet all they want to do is nuzzle."