On Saturdays, I try and let Maria sleep late, she is a chore-obsessive and I have to sneak out of the bedroom with Red to go outside. If she wakes, she will jump up and rush outside to help. This morning, she was exhausted, she slept soundly. I went out and it was cold. Red did not notice.

I wonder what the neighbors make of this strange man running around the pasture in his nightshirt or robe. Maria does this for me on weekends if I am not paying attention.  I realized as we went out that it was exactly a week ago at the same time that we noticed that Simon was not eating – a first for him, and a few minutes later I saw the strike strike him and knock him down.

Thursday night, Lenore died and her death crashed my website and shut down the blog and touched as deep a chord as I have ever seen struck in my life with animals. As always, I was surprised, I live in my life but do not always see it. Many thousands of people took the trouble to post comments and sent messages and talk about how she touched them. Many thousands more watched from a distance.

Lenore was the most cheerful of spirits, she brightened every space she was in, I always told her I thought she had an engine implanted in her tail, it never stopped, even at the end.

I was proud of telling the story of these wonderful creatures in words and photos, in a way that touched people, it is, after all, what I do. I must have done it well, I thought, for so many people to care.

This morning, when I went out to the cold pasture,  I went to the gate with carrots for Lulu and Fanny – they are starting to bray – I felt Simon’s absence, there was no bone-rattling bray to greet me and get the day going.  He always paused for a hug or kiss on the nose, and loved to try and grab some of the hay in my arms and knock me off balance. Before going out, I whispered for Lenore to come downstairs and eat, she needed no second plea, but she was not, of course, there. It is in the small things, I think, that you feel their loss.

Time is a cleanser, too. I want to remember Simon, but there is already no trace of him, even a few yards from his grave. The donkeys and the sheep gathered at the feeder peacefully. They were hungry and gentle this morning, Liam even stood and visited with Red for a few minutes, there was a sweet truce before Red turned and said enough, get back to your flock.

It is hard for me to believe it has been a week, it seems like yesterday. Time is a powerful thing, it lives in it’s own dimension, it heals and rushes along, the river of life. It pulls me forward, and challenges me.

There are so many things to do. What a lucky old man I am: Make love, write books, take photos, talk to friends, feed animals, plot and scheme for the next chapter of my life, an ongoing story that pays no attention to time and does not walk for too long in lament and struggle and loss. On Tuesday, off to Disney World, then back home to face taxes, the winter, the crisis and mystery of life. I am grateful for it, all of it, so happy to have the chance to live and to feel so many things. There is nothing like being human, of the gift of feeling so much, my heart is no longer broken, it feels so much.