Meet the mother and daughter team behind the Wonkey Donkey Sanctuary near Knottingley as it marks its seventh birthday

The ordinary foot soldiers were, it was claimed, sent remorselessly sent to their deaths, or serious injury, by their generals.

But the animal picked as the exemplar of wilful disregard is a deeply unfair choice. Donkeys, it is true, have a stubbornness in their nature – but they are also loyal, hard-working and steadfast.

And there are few who celebrate the achievements of these loyal and reliable animals with such passion as Jackie and Jenny Howarth, the mother and daughter who run the Wonkey Donkey sanctuary near Knottingley. You’ll need a good Satnav to track the site down, but, in peaceful fields, and far from any major community, there it sits, now the home to 29 donkeys – not to mention six ponies and five goats.

The site – at Little Oakes Farm, Cobcroft Lane – celebrated seven years since opening earlier this month.

The donkeys are nearly all “rescue” animals, saved from jobs of drudgery – or worse. Jackie, 68, tells a story of being down in Devon, and persuaded to go to a livestock sale. What she and Jenny witnessed simply appalled them. “The show ring, where the animals were paraded was so small that it was unbelievable,” she recalls.

“The whole thing was gruesome, and made even more macabre when we discovered that the organiser took the unsold beasts to her ‘farm’, took care of them for maybe a few weeks, and then had them slaughtered – to be turned into food products. It was just obscene.”

Needless to say, Jenny, 24, and Jackie did not return to Yorkshire without some new friends. So where did this deep and very affecting passion for donkeys begin? Jackie was a noted horse-rider and show-woman for many years, but it all started when Jenny suffered an injury to a lower limb just before she was about to start secondary school.

Officially, it was a torn ligament, but it caused so much pain that the youngster was barely able to move. Doctors gave several opinions, and offered solutions, but none worked. In fact, she was in so much agony, that her brain went into what is known as “conversion syndrome”. It simply could not cope with the pain, and offer support to mobility at the same time.

For some reason that she is still not adequately able to explain, Jenny asked for a donkey as a companion, and soon eight-month-old Buttons arrived on the doorstep.

“He was just skin and bones,” recalls Jenny, “and he was terrified of everything. I had to gain his confidence, and I started by just standing outside his stable, by the door, and talking to him. It took weeks, but I slowly moved inside. And finally, he recognised me not as an enemy (he’d obviously been treated very cruelly) but as a friend.”

It was the start of the sanctuary, and the first – literally – independent steps for Jenny. It tells you a lot about her character that, when she did return to school and full-time education, she exited with no less than 11 GCSEs, and as head girl.

Jenny says that, unlike a great many teenagers, “I knew where my vocation was, right from when I was 12 or 13 or so. I’ve always believed that if you have something that you really want to do, go and do it – no matter what anybody else tells you. Have a goal in life, and chase it, no matter what.”

Buttons was where it all began and, though, like so many other organisations, the sanctuary is still recovering from the problems created by lockdowns, now it has many thousands of visitors every year.

Jenny and her mother even began showing some of their animals at field events. Jenny wasn’t convinced about getting in the ring, but overcame her shyness and gained much confidence. Jackie, meanwhile, was apprehensive for another reason.

“Being a showjumper for so many years, I really wondered what my old friends and colleagues would say when I arrived in the ring, not with a magnificent horse, but leading a well-groomed donkey. Would I be laughed at? I needn’t have worried.”

There have been other family adversities – Jenny, her cousin and two of her aunts were all caught up in the terror that was the Manchester Arena bombing. The two older ladies suffered appalling injuries, and were only ten or so feet away from the bomber. Neither of them is, as yet, confident of being anywhere near people en masse.

But the Howarth clan are a resilient lot, and nearly all are involved, one way or another, with the sanctuary. There’s the cosy little café, and the gift shop, with every penny from those side-lines, as well as the admission fees ploughed straight back into the sanctuary’s maintenance and survival.

Jenny and Jackie are constantly exploring new ways to find revenue, and to pay the bills. Jenny wondered if she’d get any response at all to a recent fundraising plea on social media. The result? Bales of hay from one anonymous donor, and many other vital donations. Their motto seems to be “adapt to survive”, and it works for them.

There is an evident bond between mother and daughter – paradoxically made stronger by the fact that they work together, and live in close proximity. “We have never fallen out. Ever,” says Jackie. And then she smiles: “We may have disagreements. But never ever arguments. There’s a big difference.”

The site is holding a number of events over the summer including the opportunity to meet children’s characters Mickey Mouse, Po from the Teletubbies and Bing.

A Wonkey Donkey experience day is also being planned for children on August 30, offering an opportunity to learn all about the animals from their care, mucking out and feeding to grooming.

Visit www.wonkey-donkey.co.uk or Wonkey Donkey visitors centre on Facebook.