When an animal is sick, it brings out the best in us. It adds purpose and meaning to our lives.

We were prepared for a typical day this morning, I have my blogging ideas all set in my mind, and Maria is working on a new quilt and some new potholders.

But we live on a farm, and our animals make our lives anything but typical. When one of them has a problem, our whole days are upended. Nothing is more important than figuring out what is wrong and what we can do about it.

This is always complicated because animals don’t speak our language; we have to figure it out in different ways.

So today is the story of Suzy.. She came to Maria for comfort after we found she might be sick. And the day is really about her.

When Maria went out to let the animals out to graze, as she does every morning,  she saw something different.

There was blood in the manure in the pole barn. That rings all kinds of alarm bells.

Maria always counts the animals to ensure they are all there and checks each one to see they are healthy.

Only then will she go into her studio and make her art.

The animal experience is often intense. Since they can’t tell us what is wrong, we must be their interpreters and advocates.

Maria took a blood sample of the bloody stool, and then went from sheep to sheep. She saw blood on Susie’s rear.

She knew it was her. She called the vet, and they said to come, so we drove there with her blood sample.

This is how it works. Piece by piece, we put it together.

I just went; Maria knew what to do and handled it perfectly. By now, she knows so much more about sheep than I do that I had nothing to offer. I did urge her to ask Jack Kittel, our animal vet, to come to the farm today to give the block their shots and check everyone out.

Jack’s tech tested the stool sample right on the spot. It looked like worms, he said.

In a way, that was a huge relief. In another, it was more complicated. If one sheep has worms, odds are they all will.

We asked Jack to come to the farm, and we came home.

When we got home, we went to check on Susie.  I expected her to be lying in the corner of the Pole Barn, her usual spot. But she surprised me by running out and pressing against Maria.

It was a touching thing to see, powerful evidence of the connection that exists between humans and their animals. Suzy just stood still while Maria talked with her and petted her head and neck.  Something beautiful, even mystical, was passing between them.

I can’t say what happened in Suzy’s mind; nobody can do that. But it seemed clear Susie sensed something was wrong and was coming to Maria for support, a sign of great trust.

Suzy never runs up to us like that. How do I account for that? I can’t. But I do trust what I saw.

Jack agreed is coming sometime this afternoon.

We are busy and preoccupied people at time, but they can get our full attention anytime, especially when sick.

Nothing we do comes before that. Maria and the sheep and donkeys are close to one another, they know how to talk to each other.

Maria is an artist, and I am a writer and blogger, and photographer. Neither of us is a real farmer or ever pretends to be one.

But we love our farm and consider ourselves committed stewards of the animals here.

I got the sheep because I wanted to work with them with my border collies, which I loved doing. Maria took over the sheep when she started selling their yarn.

But her relationship with the sheep has grown and deepened. I focus on my dogs, my work, my blog, my pictures, and my dog and our donkeys. She sheep are Maria’s sheep.

She loves them and knows their names, ages, and history.

She tends to their feeding, their health, to cleaning up their mess, and giving grain and special foods to the older ones in the winter to keep them warm. They are comfortable with her in ways few humans experience with animals that are not pets.

I saw this happen with Maria and the donkeys. I’ve seen with my own eyes how she talks to them, and they speak to her in their ways and their separate languages.

Maria believes that when a sheep is ready to die, they surrender and lie down in the Pole Barn, ready to leave the world quickly and peacefully. I’ve seen this happen again and again.

To see her with them is pure joy.

They follow her and do what they are told. She is an animal whisperer.

We do not need a working dog, which is good because Fate doesn’t wish to be one.

Jack Kittel, our large animal vet, is coming this afternoon after 2. It seems inevitable that Susie will be all right if it’s worms that are treated with medicine. If it is something else, we’ll deal with it.

Once again, our animals have connected us, called out the best in us, and reminded us that there are all kinds of ways to talk to animals, almost none involving spoken words.

Animals are creatures with hearts and souls. They are meant to live with us; they know less than we often think they do but more than most of us can imagine.

When I don’t know is how animals think. But when they are sickthey are sick, we are reminded of how much they mean to us, and how much they mean and have meant to humanity.

Living with them is one of life’s greatest gifts.