The animals I’ve lived with are visceral creatures of habit. They love to do the same thing at the same time. They love whatever and whoever feeds them, unconditionally. When the donkeys see Maria, they bray from up the hill and come running down. They wait eagerly while Maria breaks up the carrots and offers them, and they chew the carrot chunks deliberately, even soulfully. In this way, donkeys can be trained, sort of. They must think everything is their idea, not yours. If you want them to leave someplace, you tell them to stay. If you want them to stay, ask them to leave.

Each day, I put a small bit of grain or corn in the barn, and this teaches them to come into the barn when I need them to be there, as when the vet or farrier comes. If I want them to leave, I open the gate and walk out. They follow me to see what I am up to. You just have to think in reverse to understand them. Food, though, requires no such maneuvering. They are there.