Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: FRIDAY, April 16, 1993 TAG: 9304160018
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: B1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: Ed Shamy
DATELINE: MILL CREEK LENGTH: Medium
VIRILITY'S NOT ENOUGH TO MAKE A PARTY ANIMAL OF J.P.
The Underwoods fed ornery J.P. for two years, figuring that someday the old jackass would pay rich dividends when he sired some youngsters.J.P. was as nasty a cuss of a donkey as ever roamed a Botetourt County pasture - and big enough to back it up.
"Biggest jack in the county," boasted Noah Underwood.
Rod Underwood, Noah's son, still talks about the day J.P. treed a crew of linemen stringing power lines over the pasture - they were afraid to come down and face J.P.
And there was the day last fall when J.P. picked up 250-pound Jess Underwood, another of Noah's sons, with his teeth and threw him into a woodpile. Jess still has the 12-inch scar back by his kidney.
"You don't see many jacks as mean as he was," said Noah Underwood. "He was an ornery b------."
Hopeful of employing J.P. to breed some sturdy wagon mules, the Underwoods kept him in the creekside lot near their homes. Mare after mare they'd put in the pasture, but J.P. always failed at the task.
"The mares kept coming back in heat. Nothing foaled," complained Noah.
Two weeks ago, a veterinarian came to the farm midway between Troutville and Buchanan, inspected J.P. at the request of the Underwoods and pronounced the donkey sterile. They paid the vet $88 for the diagnosis.
Two days later the Underwoods trucked J.P. to a Front Royal livestock auction and sold him for $450. He cost $600 a couple of years back.
They sold him "as is."
"He's got all the equipment," said Rod, "but it's not worth nothing."
J.P.'s sterility problem didn't come up at the auction, and the Underwoods didn't bring it up.
The failed experiment with J.P. was forgotten until an early morning phone call rousted the Underwoods on Thursday.
A passing school bus driver had seen a colt mired in a mud puddle in the half-acre lot beside the road.
"He wasn't nothing but mud," said Rod.
For hours the Underwoods toiled, dragging the newborn from the bog, rinsing off the mud from its coat and hair and even flushing its mouth of dirt.
Pearl, the draft-horse mare who'd dropped the babe into the mud, stood nearby. She'd been bred with J.P., that good-for-nothing, and with a few different stallions. What she'd produce was anybody's guess.
"We figured she was pregnant by that Belgian stud," said Noah.
After the colt was clean, it was obvious that it was no colt.
It was a mule. J.P.'s son.
J.P., it turns out, was not so sterile after all, though not quite so virile that the Underwoods would want him back.
"No way," said Noah. "I don't want that jack back. He had a biting problem real bad."
They're shopping for a new donkey.