When Simon came to farm and was lying near death in the back pasture, I would bring books out and read stories to him. He seemed to love it, lying in his bed of straw, often too weak to stand up. It nourished him somehow, the sound of my voice in the dark. He watched me closely, his eyes wide, his ears up. Ever since those says, I have read things to him – short stories, poems, things about donkeys. And he always seems to listen. Tonight, I am giving a reading/talk in Saratoga (at the Spring Street Gallery, 7:30 p.m.). I dislike reading from my own books,  I don’t think I do it well, but they want at least a few minutes, and I will do that.

I decided to read from “Luther And Minnie Got To Heaven”  one of the short stories from “Dancing Dogs,” out in September. The story is about a woman who wanted to meet her dog Luther in heaven when she died, and when she passes, she finds the Dog Angel and asks her if she can  go see Luther. Okay, says the angel, but you might be surprised. And she is. I read a section of this story to Simon this morning, and as you can see, he seemed interested. He is a good audience. He snorted once or twice, brayed once, then came over for a brushing and a cookie.

I don’t say as often as I should how much I love this donkey. I love his spirit, his determination to live, his loving nature. We are connected for sure. We do talk to one another, all of the time. And we listen to each other. I’ve got the excerpt all worked out.