Today's metro section in the Star Tribune informs us that Sheba,
Nicollet Island's long-time resident donkey, has passed from this mortal
coil. Reporter Howie Padilla had contact with my old and dear friend
Doris, now living at an undisclosed secure location in Iowa. 

I remember the day when Sheba and her mother Pearl arrived at Cold
Storage's loading dock in Red Nelson's school bus. History was made that
day and residents and visitors alike have regaled the world with tales
of the donkeys and their various non-traditional animal friends for many
years.

Sheba became emblematic of the Island community's singular nonchalance -
a tranquil enclave surrounded by urban hustle and bustle, protected in
perpetuity by the mighty Father of Waters - well except for the time
that one of the goats wandered down to Nicollet Mall and of course there
was a certain sorely aggrieved building inspector who had to immobilized
by a special city council permit granted to Sheba and her mom and
attested to by a carefully planted hoofprint, but I digress. My point is
that for the better part of two decades we Minneapolitan cogniscenti
could smile when we thought of Sheba living quietly in our secret urban
garden.  

It'd be nice to see a statue of Sheba somewhere on the Island, a welcome
relief from the scattering of 19th-century reliquaries elsewhere in town
that trumpet the invasion of northern Europeans that deforested the pine
woods and made such a mess of the limestone shelf above St. Anthony
Falls. I'm ever grateful for the care Sheba showed in carefully nipping
tasty flowers from the big thistles that grew wild on the Island - a
four-legged exemplar of sustainability, she was. She will be sorely
missed.

Fred Markus, Horn Terrace, Ward Ten 

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