I admit to being tight with Simon. When he came to the farm I read donkey stories to him for weeks as he recovered from his many wounds. We have bonded in a deep way. He comes up to me whenever I am in the pasture, and I often talk to him kiss him on the nose, and just love him. He loves in return. It was jarring to see him go after Rocky, even though it was, for a donkey, the most natural thing in the world. As I like to say, they were not like us, even if we don’t want to believe it.

So when Maria came out to the pasture, she saw me talking to Simon and Red was listening and she took a photo of it. So I did go out to the pasture, and I did have a talk. I said, hey Simon, ease up. Do you remember when you were a dying wreck of a donkey and you desperately craved some attention, nourishment and affection? Do you remember that you got it, that you were welcomed by cats and other donkeys and dogs and chickens, who loved to ride on your back for quick and safe transportation to the hay feeder? Everyone seemed to be happy to see you, to fuss over you, to watch you heel? Do you remember this Simon, on any level? I know you do not understand words, but you are good on feelings.

How about giving the blind old pony a break.

Connect with your sweet inner self, the Simon I know, and chill. Please, or you will cause big trouble, and we have enough going on. Simon did seem mellower today, more at ease, more himself. I often talk to Simon, and Simon often talks to me, through his brays and soft  nose and deep brown eyes. We connect with one another, and he seems to need attention this week, seems to really crave it. So he got it, and a speech too. We’ll see. Simon listens, I believe.