A donkey head is never a good idea for a trophy head. No.
Just. So. Wrong.
Not even if you put up G.K. Chesterton’s poem “The Donkey” to pacify such as me.
When fishes flew and forests walked
And figs grew upon thorn,
Some moment when the moon was blood
Then surely I was born.
With monstrous head and sickening cry
And ears like errant wings,
The devil’s walking parody
On all four-footed things.
The tattered outlaw of the earth,
Of ancient crooked will;
Starve, scourge, deride me: I am dumb,
I keep my secret still.
Fools! For I also had my hour;
One far fierce hour and sweet:
There was a shout about my ears,
And palms before my feet.
I think that God truly loves all equines. Not as much as humans, of course. He died for us in order to save us (although equines never insulted Him the way we did). But after man, the ungrateful apex of His creation, I think he loves equines (of course donkeys are right up there in that group).
Equus asinus