180 at the curb

Donkey can't (or won't) climb up the curb from the street to the footpath.

So F spins him around and makes him climb backwards up the curb.  

It makes my head swim.  Every time we cross the street I'm contemplating the scenery and suddenly its 'swivel bump' time.  I hate backing up and I hate 'proceeding under tow'.  I'm driving, so I have to see where we are going.

F's Dad had a friend called Eddie.  Eddie and his brother were born in Ireland but emigrated to New Zealand as young adults quite a few decades ago.  Eddie knows a thing or two about mules and donkeys.

By the way did you know that lots of the Chindits (Burma, WWII) muleteers were Irish? (Digression)

Eddie says it's because the Irish understand mules and donkeys better than anyone else in the world.  It might be politically incorrect to pass on his reasoning, so we will give you a direct example of Eddie-think:

Another friend had an eventing horse that they trailered around various gymkhanas and A&P shows.  The horse hated travelling so to keep it calm in the horse box they let it travel with a donkey that kept it company in its paddock at home.  That worked for the horse, but the donkey hated the horse-box - or hated being told what to do.  At the end of every show-day it's owners and their friends could be seen, two pulling from the front, two pushing at the back, trying to load the thoroughly stubborn, and strenuously resisting, donkey.  

Eddie wanders past and stops. (Que: strong Irish accent)

"You're doing it all wrong."

"How so?"

"You have to think like the donkey."

Whereupon Eddie takes the donkey by the halter, turns him around, lines him up with the ramp and starts pulling the donkey away from the trailer.

Donkey backs up the ramp into the horse-box.

Job done.

I wonder if that is why I go backwards over all the curbs.