John Nettles, beloved by audiences worldwide for his portrayal of insightful detectives in shows like Midsomer Murders and Bergerac, reveals a different side of his observant nature in this charming piece about his donkeys, Hector and Achilles. While celebrated for his on-screen expertise in solving mysteries, here Nettles turns his keen eye to the gentle mystery of animal companionship and the possible depths of donkey contemplation.
Hector’s Arrival and Canine Chaos
Hector, the first donkey to grace Nettles’ Devon farm, arrived from the rain-swept landscapes of Galway. Described with affection as “small but perfectly formed,” Hector possessed the quintessential donkey characteristics: delicate feet, luminous dark eyes, and the iconic cross on his back. However, Hector was not without his quirks. His powerful braying, capable of rivaling a foghorn, and his unpredictable bathroom habits unfortunately disqualified him from a starring role in the local church Nativity play. This setback was followed by another disappointment when Hector was deemed unsuitable for a film celebrating the Mare and Foal Sanctuary – a cause Nettles himself patronizes. The sanctuary, dedicated to horses and ponies, regrettably had no place for donkeys in its manifesto.
Achilles Enters the Scene: A Friendship Forged
Recognizing Hector’s apparent melancholy, Nettles and his wife Cathy, whose equine knowledge far surpasses John’s self-professed minimal understanding, decided a companion was needed. This led them to Cornwall and another Galway escapee, Achilles. Despite the ominous namesake from Greek mythology – Achilles, the slayer of Hector – no such conflict arose between the two donkeys. Instead, Hector and Achilles formed an instant bond. They became inseparable, sharing stables, hay, and a penchant for playful wrestling.
Their boisterous games were often disrupted by Bruce, a spirited springer spaniel embodying what Nettles humorously calls the “Schopenhauer Tendency.” Bruce, oblivious to the size difference, would eagerly attempt to join the donkey commotion, seemingly unaware he could become an accidental snack rather than a participant.
Gazing East: A Donkey Contemplation?
After their energetic outbursts, Hector and Achilles often find themselves side-by-side at the corner of an outbuilding, gazing steadfastly eastward. This motionless vigil, undertaken in all weather conditions, presents a puzzle to Nettles. He humbly acknowledges that his twenty-five years portraying television detectives provides no special insight into “the divine aspect of equus asinus.” Yet, he playfully presumes a deeper meaning behind their eastward gaze.
Nettles muses that this behavior might be a “silent service of remembrance,” a race-memory harking back to a donkey ancestor who carried the Messiah into Jerusalem. He envisions them recalling “the hour of the donkey” on Palm Sunday and perhaps even the donkey’s loyal presence on the Via Dolorosa. This leads Nettles to reflect on the enduring symbol of the cross on every donkey’s back, a “badge of God-given favour” bestowed, in his interpretation, at Golgotha.
A Satisfactory State of Affairs
Whether a profound spiritual observance or simply donkey nature, Nettles finds contentment in Hector and Achilles’ quiet companionship. He contrasts their gentle spirituality with the earthly exuberance of Bruce, who remains happily preoccupied with squirrels and living room cushions. Nettles concludes with warmth, recognizing that Hector and Achilles, in their youth and health, will likely continue their donkey lives long after his own span. This, he reflects, is “a very satisfactory state of affairs indeed.” Through this charming tale, John Nettles offers a glimpse into his life beyond the screen, revealing a thoughtful observer of both human and animal nature, finding joy and perhaps even deeper meaning in the simple moments of rural life.
