Fannie is the second donkey I have lived with, perhaps the donkey I love the most, and the one that has loved me the most. Donkeys are independent, but intensely loyal creatures in their own way. Love is not unconditional or given freely, but when it is give, it is forever.

Fannie and I were together when I first got to Bedlam Farm, she came to keep Carol, my first donkey company. We bonded many times over during those long and awful winters, which were not that long ago, but seem from another time sometimes. I sat with Fannie in the meadow, read to her, gave her oats and cookies, sang to her.

Maria is much loved by the animals here, but Fannie has never been fickle, as animals are.

She loves me and is always waiting for me.

She comes up to me and waits, silently, for attention, and if she does not get it, I will get a butt in the rear that will remind me. This morning, even as the other animals went into the side pasture to graze, Fannie waited for me to come out, she stood silently until I came over and hugged her and scratched and rubbed her ears.

Fannie has a sweet spot on the right rear of her backside, only I know it, and she insists I scratch it every day. Donkeys do not love like dogs or horses, more like cats. Everything must be their idea, when to love and when not to love. When they want to love, they will insist upon it.

Fannie knows me well, and deeply into my soul, and I love her very much, there is a gentleness and intuition about her that is evident to me. We speak all of the time, she is tolerant of me and knowing of my moods.