Several people suggested calling this new pasture “Lulu’s Crossing,” and I think it’s a good idea. Donkey’s have long been among the most powerful symbols in the animal world, their history with humans is reach and deep, they are creatures of work, loyalty and great suffering. Lulu’s dilemma was a small story, seemingly not an important one, a donkey’s struggle to cross to a new pasture would not make any newscast in our world, yet Lulu’s plight touched a lot of people in many different places.

Lulu was not in trouble, not starving, not threatened, but people everywhere were rooting for her, wanting her to make it, overcome her fears, take the leap of faith, cross the muddy bridge. I suppose you don’t have to be a shrink to get the symbolism there, our own desires to overcome our fears, take the leap of faith, cross our own bridges into new pastures.

Animal are powerful symbols for human beings, our connection to our own heritage, to the natural world. Their stories are almost always really about us, only sometimes about them. I want my animals to live in a safe and nourishing world, because I love them, sure, but because that’s the kind of world I want to live in, want to be in. If I can do it for them, perhaps I can do it for me. I’m glad I didn’t push or pressure Lulu, I knew she would get there in her own time. I was also getting a message indirectly inspired by her that we needed to clean up that mess, get to the new pasture, have the extra  grass and space on head in our increasingly unpredictable climate. Another step towards making the New Bedlam Farm ours.

This is what we do with our animals, we give them every opportunity to live their lives fully and realistically. The pasture was there, was old and much used, we needed to bring it back to life.

Lulu, of course, was all of us, standing in our own fields, looking at our own muddy bogs. How many times have we balked, hesitated, turn back,  how many times have we gone forward. In my own life, buying Bedlam Farm was my watery crossing, and I was Lulu fussing over whether or not I should jump. The water was deep and muddy, and I wanted to run back and yell for everybody to run with me, but I am so glad I did cross over. Every good thing in my life today, from my love to my relationship with my daughter to my photographer and many of my books and the blog came from that decision.

Lulu’s dilemma reminded me to be patient, in prodded me to improve the farm, open up a path to the woods, to give the donkeys a chance to live in an environment they live, to get more grass to graze. In the process, I met some  good and helpful people who will help us grow the farm, and slowly and carefully bring it back to life. Lulu’s Crossing made me feel very good, a very small thing, yet still a kind of victory for everyone who dares to hope, who sheds the chains of fear, who steps forward into new and rewarding spaces.

And of course, we love happy endings. Donkeys deserve as many as they can get.

Come and see the work done today. In ways I am just beginning to understand, it was important: