At least once a week I read to Simon. He loves being read to, standing perfectly still, focusing on me intently. I read mostly from “Platero and I,” by Juan Ramon Jimenez.

This week’s story was called “Wild Geese,” and I think Simon enjoyed it. I love reading to him, it was something he and I did from the first night he came here, and was unable to stand for two long. I pulled up a chair and read to him, and he always listens with complete concentration.

“I have to give Platero a drink. From the silence of the yard we hear, far above, incessant calls that, in the serene night, pass swiftly among the soft white clouds and silver stars.

Wild geese. They are going inland, fleeing from a sea storm. From time to time, as if we had ascended or they had stooped earthward in their flight, the lightest rustling of their wings is heard, the lightest rubbing of their bills.

Hours and hours the calls will continue to be heard, passing in an endless fleeing.

Platero, now and then, stops drinking and raises his head as I do, like the women of Millet, up to the stars in gentle infinite yearning.”

More than once, Simon and I have stood still and listened to the wild geese overhead.