The mystical pony sends me messages, as the old sheep did. He speaks to be about the need to save animals, not just to rescue them or turn them into children. Or exploit them by transforming them into piteous and abused things so we can feel good about ourselves. Or denigrate them by insisting they are just like us when they are so very different.

Rocky calls me to save animals by respecting them, not as dependents but as equals. Not by giving them human laws and rights, but by giving them animal rights – the freedom to live their lives and work with us. Not by imprisoning them in crates and unnatural spaces for the rest of their lives or by banning them from human spaces,  but by bringing them back into our lives, our cities, our streets and workplaces. Not by prolonging their lives unnaturally, as we do ours, but by giving them the dignity to die naturally, as I wish to. Not by loving them in our terms but in theirs. Not by putting our thoughts into their heads but by listening to them. Not by seeing what is the same, but what is different. For me, that is my true animal rescue.