The quiet pest of the dry hills looks like a domestic donkey, because that is what it is. But feral donkeys are leaner, tougher and warier of humans. They have long ears, a grey to brown coat and a distinctive, dark stripe down their back and across their shoulders. They are smaller than horses, but they are incredibly strong and stubborn. These animals are the browsers of the scrubby hills. They eat grass, leaves, bark and anything else they can reach. They are efficient at converting poor-quality forage into energy, which allows them to survive in dry, rugged country where other animals would starve. They also cause damage by trampling vegetation and competing with native animals for food. Feral donkeys have a small presence in New Zealand. They were brought by settlers as working animals, and some escaped or were released. They never reached the numbers of feral goats or pigs, and they have been largely forgotten. To see a feral donkey is to see a relic. A stubborn, grey ghost of the dry hills, braying in the distance, a reminder of the early days of European settlement. The donkey's reputation for stubbornness is actually a survival mechanism. Unlike horses, which will run until they collapse, donkeys stop when they are tired. They assess a situation before moving into it. They refuse to cross ground that looks unsafe. In the dry, rugged hills of the Coromandel, that caution has served them well. They have outlasted the farms that brought them here. The farmers are gone, but the donkeys remain, grazing on the steep slopes where nothing else can follow. They are not a major pest because there are not enough of them. They are not a conservation success because they do not belong here. They are just there, a quiet, stubborn remnant of a different time.