For centuries donkeys have captivated some of the world’s great leaders, thinkers and painters – Queen Victoria, Julius Ceasar, Jesus Christ, Napoleon, Cervantes, Michelangelo, writers and artists. The world’s great painters have, for centuries, seen donkeys as profoundly wise and spiritual creatures living in the ethereal realms of life and death, work and struggle, suffering and affection.

If there is a single theme in these works, it is that donkeys and humans are equal partners, traveling companions in the uncertain business of life and fortune. The donkey is always portrayed as an observer and witness to the divine universe, serving, watching, frustrating their humans. I see donkeys and me as partners in the great Theater of Chance – the hero journey.

This, I suppose, is why I have donkeys, and this, I suppose, is why people all over the world are watching closely to see how Lulu and I resolve our little and seemingly insignificant dilemma – how to get her across the mud bog into the new pasture. I tried to explain this to Vince Vecchione, who is coming to help us resolve this matter this morning, but he just cleared his throat and looked at me oddly. I don’t think Vince is into the spiritual life of donkeys. He is a Jersey guy, transplanted to upstate New York and, like me, never going back.

Lulu and I know one another very well. She and Fanny are sisters, and I got here when she was little more than a baby about eight years ago. We have been together ever since, except for one winter when I sent her off to a farm in Vermont during my great disintegration at Bedlam Farm, my decision to rid the farm of animals. I got her back when Spring came, and I think she has never completely forgiven me. It was months before she would let me brush her. Ever since that day I helped push her onto a trailer, she keeps a close eye on me and my intentions. This, I think, may be a part of the reason why she is wary of crossing that gate. She isn’t sure of what I am up to. Donkeys are always paying attention, and they never forget.

There is a sense of partnership about them, a sense of moving through life together. Today Maria and I walked the donkeys and the sheep into the sheep pasture and locked them in so Vince can maneuver his truck in and out of the pasture. Lulu will be watching. I’m building a walkway for you, I told her, so you can get across to the new pasture and see all of the tall grass and bushes and leaves and steams and shrub, a donkey paradise. I want the pasture, but yes, I am doing this for you, I said. You will love it back there. Look at me, I said, read me, smell my intentions. Watch the truck and the gate and see what happens.

Lulu stared at me for the longest time, she just watched me, took me in. It is fun, this week, this Lulu’s dilemma, it is of no consequence to the world, but as with anything involving animals and our emotions, there is always more going on than meets the eye. Lulu and I are working something out, and I am not quite sure what it is. Vince will be here shortly with his truck. More to come.