Maria, brushing Lulu and Fanny for the last time this afternoon, shot through the Beebalm by the big barn.
  I first fell in love with donkeys before I moved to the farm, when I herded sheep in Pennsylvania and met Carol, the lonely donkey. She came here with the sheep, and she died of a stroke a year or so later. I met a wonderful donkey breeder who sold me Fanny and Lulu, whom I instantly loved and have loved ever since. Next to my dogs, I have loved the dogs as much or more than any of the animals I have know. They are sweet, intuitive, spiritual, wonderful. They have lived with my sheep their whole lives, and are fiercely attached to and protective of them, and Darryl Kuehne fell in love with them, and needs guard animals to protect his flock of sheep. Without the sheep, the donkeys would be alone on this farm, with little to do.
  It seemed to me they belong together, and that the donkeys will be better served living on an active farm with their flock. They went into the trailer with the sheep, and Lulu put her head on Fanny’s back to support and comfort her.
 I spent much of the morning with them, brushing them and saying goodbye. I am not into sentimentality (or nostalgia) in writing or life, but I will say that was one of the most painful experiences I have had since coming to the farm. It was also a good decision for me and my life. And, I believe, for them.
  I am grateful to them. I have not lost a single sheep to a coyote, nor has a fox or stray dog penetrated the farm. I have spent wondrous hours communing with them, and receiving the affection and I am grateful they will go to a farm where they can continue to live good lives with excellent care and love.
  I am eager to move ahead with my idea of a New Bedlam Farm, a different kind of place, but an evolution, and a creative place. And a community of encouragement and, hopefully, inspiration, for me, the people I love, and my friends.