I got up at 4 a.m, kissed my wife and made sure she was tucked in, I came downstairs, showered and dressed, stoked the wood fires, I was getting up early to work on my book about Simon – Saving Simon: How A Rescue Donkey Taught Me The Meaning Of Compassion. I’ve finished the first draft, my editor wants more work, a lot of work, there is so much going on it is best for me to get up early and work in quiet. I love this time to work. I went over to the couch to check on Minnie, she was curled up next to a teddy bear, the book Maria is reading alongside of her.

Minnie is getting more agile, her remaining leg stronger, she can climb up on things, move more quickly and confidently. I wonder how much she understands about what happened to her, where her right rear leg has gone.

Her nights are different than they used to be, out in the pasture, chasing mice and rats. At 4:30, I was ready to write, I lit my scented candles, bowed to my muse, Red was curled up next to my chair (Frieda upstairs with Maria, Lenore had come down to join me on her sofa) and Minnie came yowling into my study. I know what this means, she wants to eat, I put some kibble in a bowl and set it outside. Her day as a barn cat, even in the dark and cold, was underway. She has two lives now. For the next two hours or so I can focus on Simon, I am writing about his first awful days at Bedlam Farm, when he was clinging to life. Maria says I was never the same after that, it is true.