Life and Death are Wearing Me Out

you think they could grow 400 catties the way they go about it? Who do they think they’re fooling?” Her smile could not hide the worries she felt deep down. “You’re the man of the house, but why must you always sing a different tune than the others? They’ve got numbers, we’re all by ourselves. Remember, a powerful tiger is no match for a pack of wolves.” Lan Lian glared at her. “What are you afraid of? We have the support of District Chief Chen.”
    My master, wearing a brown felt cap and a brand-new padded coat cinched at the waist by a green cloth sash, was brushing my coat, which was very comforting physically; his praise did the same for my spirit.
    “Old Blackie,” he said, “my friend, you worked hard last year. Half the credit for the good harvest goes to you. Let’s do even better this year. It’ll be like kicking that damned co-op in the nuts!”
    I warmed up as the sunlight kept getting brighter. The pigeons were still up in the sky, the ground was covered by shredded red-and-white paper, firecracker debris. The night before, the sky had lit up and explosions had rocked the earth, creating clouds of gunpowder smoke; the compound looked and smelled like a war zone, to which was added the lingering odor of meaty dumplings, year-end cakes of sticky rice, and all kinds of sweets. The master’s wife had placed a bowl of dumplings in water to cool them off, then dumped them into my food trough with my regular feed, patted me on the head, and said:
    “Little Blackie, it’s New Year’s, have some dumplings.”
    I’m the first to admit that dumplings at New Year’s is an exceptional courtesy to extend to a donkey. They were nearly treating me as one of their own, a human just like them. I’d earned the respect of my master after killing those two wolves and now had the finest reputation of any donkey in the eighteen villages and hamlets within a radius of a hundred li. So what if those three damned hunters got away with the carcasses? The people here knew what really happened. No one denied that the Han family donkey had played a role in that battle, but they knew I’d pretty much carried the day and she’d been a bit player, one whose life I’d saved, by the way. I’d already reached the gelding age, and my master had put the fear of the knife in me. But he didn’t mention it again after my battlefield heroics. The previous fall I’d gone out to work in the fields with my master, followed by Xu Bao, the local veterinarian, pack over his back and a brass bell in his hand, a man who specialized in castrating so-called beasts of burden. His shifty eyes kept returning to a spot between my rear legs. His body reeked of cruelty, and I knew what he had in mind. He was one of those bastards who enjoyed swallowing a donkey or bull gonad with a cup of strong liquor. He was definitely not fated to die in bed. Well, anyway, I watched him carefully and never let my guard down. The minute he walked up behind me, I’d greet him with a pair of flying hooves right in his crotch. I wanted that cruel son of a bitch to know what it felt like to leave the field without his family jewels. And if he approached me from the front, I’d bite him in the head. That’s what I did best. He was real sneaky, turning up suddenly here and there, but always staying a safe distance away and not giving me a chance to go into action. When people on the road saw stubborn Lan Lian walking ahead of his now famous donkey, followed by that castrating son of a bitch, they asked questions like:
    “Say, Lan Lian, time to turn your donkey into a eunuch?”
    or:
    “Xu Bao, did you find something to go with your liquor again?”
    “Don’t do it, Lan Lian,” someone shouted. “That donkey had the balls to take on those wolves. Each nut supplies some of an animal’s courage, so he must have as many as a sack of potatoes.”
    Some boys on their way to school fell in behind Xu Bao to sing a ditty about him:
    Xu Bao Xu Bao, sees an egg and takes a bite!
Without an egg to bite, he sweats all night.
Xu Bao Xu Bao, a donkey dick of a sight.
A scoundrel who won’t stand up and fly right. . .
    Xu Bao stopped and glared at the little brats, reached into his pack, pulled out a gleaming little knife, and shouted threateningly:
    “You’d better shut up, you little bastards! Master Xu here will cut the balls off the next one of you who makes up something like that!”
    The boys huddled together and responded with goofy laughs. So