Simon died here at the second Bedlam Farm five or six years ago; I’m never great on dates. I walked by his tombstone yesterday and got the itch to look back at my photos – something I rarely do – to remember him.
I don’t have the heart to tell his story again; most people know it, and I wrote a book about it.
Saving Simon was one of the books I most loved, and Simon was one of the animals I most loved.
He was rescued near death by the New York State Police and given to me to help him heal and find a good home. Everyone who saw him wanted to put him down. He was in awful shape.
I never saw an animal as abused and suffering as Simon. I can’t ever forget the hours lying with him in our pasture, rubbing his gums with anti-biotic ointments and feeding him some blades of hay one at a time, as he struggled to stay alive after months of starvation and abuse.
It took a long time to nurse him back to health, and it was touching to see how sweet he was and how trusting, forgiving, and loving he turned out to be.
Simon and I fell in love, I was crazy about that donkey, and he brayed to spin the moon when he saw me every morning.
I loved walking with him in the woods, brushing him, and reading to him. He opened up something profound inside of me. He had a stroke out in our pasture. I saw him staggering from the bedroom window and knew he would die shortly. Large animals never really recover from strokes.
The Large Animal vet rushed over and told us we needed to euthanize him, and we did.
I did get to sit down with him and hold his head in my lap.
I loved you very much, Simon, and I am glad you had some great and happy years with us. You deserved more. You had a great spirit. Simon loved to be loved, hugged, petted, brushed, read to, and fed. It was almost as if his response to all the cruelty he suffered was to be all the more loving.
You drove Lulu and Fanny crazy, and each day began with each one kicking you in the head. This did not deter you from pestering them and hoping to mate somehow.
They were both sad when you died, but not too low.
I was, and so was Maria.
You are buried in the pasture, and we put a stone on the spot as a gravestone.
I think of Simon every time I walk past there, and I am so sorry he didn’t get to walk in our woods with me as I had planned. He loved those walks, staying close to me and reaching up into the trees for some leaves to munch on.
He never ran from me or pulled away on those walks. It was as if we had been talking in the woods together all of our lives.
I think that’s all I want to say about Simon today, I know many of the people reading this followed his story closely (hundreds came to see him at our Open Houses), and I thought it would be nice for me and them to share a few of the photos.
Simon was a sweetheart, and the other animals seemed to love him. The chickens were especially fond of him and liked to ride around on his back, which was okay with him. They picked the bugs and ticks off of him, which he appreciated. There has been a lot of life and death on our two farms, but Simon’s death went deep. I was hoping he would have more years of peace and love than he got, but I am grateful he was with us as long as he was.
Next to A Good Dog, your story about Orson, your story about Simon is my favorite. I have never forgotten how you took Simon home when most would not. You healed him and made his last years the best they could be. You are a good man, Jon.
“Saving Simon” is on my bookshelf and I have read it twice. I usually donate my books to our town’s senior citizen center, but I can’t part with this one. You did the absolute best for this animal, and I’m sorry any animal had to go through what Simon went through.
I recommend Saving Simon to anyone I know who is an animal person and needs a good read. I’ve bought and read your writing for years but Simon was different. How lucky you, Simon and others have been to know this wonderful story!
Thank you for the story Simon. You invested alot in him, emotionaly.
Thank you for going back and posting about Simon L remember him well.
Simon changed my life
I remember Simon well and it was bittersweet seeing his photos today. You were both fortunate to have found each other when you did…….and that he was able to live his remaining years in your dedicated and loving care. They do each touch our hearts deeply and leave a lasting and fond memory
Susan M
“A Good Dog “ was the first book I read. I’ve had countless animals, and dogs are by far my favorite. I grew up with golden retrievers, had Rottweilers , collie that was like Lassie, and currently have a border collie, mini Aussie, full sized Aussie, and a Heinz 57. I enjoy your work so much, even though I end up crying.
Donkeys are the absolute best. We have had our Paco for 27 of his 33 years. He is fortunate that he hasn’t had similar life experiences as Simon and so many other donks endure. He shows love to all, but especially children with special physical or emotional needs. We have had his pal, a quarter horse named Dakota who is now 34, together since they came to live with us. I don’t know how we will cope with our last days, but will treasure the time we have left every minute of every day.
” I was hoping he would have more years of peace and love than he got, but I am grateful he was with us as long as he was”. Pertains to many who cross our life path.
Thank you for re-visiting Simon.
Saving Simon was the first book I read of yours. The cruelty endured by this animal was so overwhelming, I didn’t think I could finish the book. When I found your blog, Simon had already died. It broke my heart. I hate I missed all the stories of his recovery on your farm. Thank you for the incredible compassion you showed Simon. I’ve never seen pictures of him before on the farm. It warms my heart to know his final years were so happy. Thank you for bringing him back into our thoughts.