The photo above was taken on the first day Simon came to Bedlam Farm. He could only stand up for a few minutes, and mostly, he just lay under the feeder. But this image of him has engraved itself in my consciousness, he was so broken and helpless.

I think I always kept the rescue culture at some distance from me and my writing not only because I didn’t want to see animals as piteous and abused creatures – too narrow a prism for me, like “left” and “right,” – but because I didn’t want to see  myself as piteous and abused. Maria saw the connection between Simon and me  from the first. I am not sure I have ever been so shocked or touched as when he first came to our farm and I watched him struggle to stand up, and move in great pain and orient himself to the world again, to struggle to live and survive. We were not sure he would.

Seeing those wounds, pouring salve and balm and ointment on them, rubbing and massaging his twisted legs and infected gums and rotted skin, scraping the lice and maggots out of his wounds, I was forced to confront something about human beings and what they can to do animals and to one another, and to confront the sores and scabs and wounds inside of me. This is often the thing about rescuing animals, as honest people will admit, we are rescuing ourselves as well. How do you keep perspective in the face of such a sight?, and lying there on the ground with Simon, hand feeding him hay, reading him stories, I was, of course, knee deep in the broken parts of me.  Every day, we see what humans do to one another, and we are challenged to affirm our own humanity.

So we set out, I think, to heal one another. What I could do for him I might also do for me. Valentine’s Day can be a sappy day, or a chance to thoughtfully explore the meaning of love in our lives. I think of Maria, of Lenore, of many dogs I have loved. But Simon comes up again and again. From the beginning, we both meant to heal ourselves, and how curious we found one another bound on the same journey, another man and donkey story and an unlikely one. What are the odds that Jon Katz and Simon would have found one another? Simon was named by McKenzie Barrett, the daughter of the animal control officer – Jessica Barrett – who asked me if I might adopt Simon. McKenzie said that Simon was a name from the bible and she thought that if she named him Simon he would be blessed and never get hurt again.

I have helped Simon heal, and he has helped me. Every time he sees me, he lets out a joyous bray that reminds me that I am good, I am beautiful, I am strong. I brought him a cookie this morning and kissed him on the nose. Happy Valentine’s day to you, sir, I said. And thanks for coming into my life.

And so it came to be, another love story, another kiss for the soul. Simon is blessed and will never be hurt again.  And for the record, I am blessed, also and will never be hurt again in those ways. It is a wonderful Valentine’s Day Story.