It is difficult to remember a time before Simon, or Lulu and Fanny, or a life without donkeys. This is a curious thing to say from a man who lived much of his life in the country’s major cities, where I worked and traveled as a journalist and an author. I think I had never seen a donkey before I took Orson and Rose for sheepherding lessons at the Raspberry Ridge Sheep Farm in Bangor, Pa. Carol was living alone in a fenced in pasture, and she took a liking to me after I started bringing her apples – donkeys appreciate apples. When I got my sheep from Raspberry Ridge, Carol came along with them. She didn’t like me too much, except when I was bringing her apples or music. In my early days at the farm I took my boombox out to the barn every night and played Willie Nelson songs to her. She loved Willie Nelson. He seemed to calm  her. Carol bit and kicked me regularly, especially when she wanted a snack or I tried to medicate her.

I loved Carol, old and grumpy donkey that she was. She had a few good years before she succumbed to foundering and a stroke. Donkeys have changed many of my notions about animals. They are affectionate, intuitive, very connected to us. I love their independence, and I could spend many hours watching Maria and her powerful connection to them. I do. In the morning, they come down for hay in the winter. And just before dusk. I usually bring carrots or apples out, and I often think of Carol, who had a good run her before she succumbed. I am grateful for her, but also for her opening my eyes to the spiritual and healing power of donkeys. Simon loves his straw bed in the Pole Barn and is first at the barn door for grain on cold days. He is also the first in line for some attention.

Sunday is my day of reset, my Sabbath.  No computers, e-mail, blogging, cell phones, Ipad or Ipods. We have nothing planned at all, but sleeping, reading, listening to music, walking the dogs, and especially, spending time with the donkeys. When we sit with them, they quietly approach us, leaning into us, bumping us with their snouts when they want attention, standing quietly to be touched, talked to and brush. When we decided to put the farm up for sale a couple of weeks ago, we told the reader we would not consider moving to any place without a good barn and pasture for the donkeys. I cannot imagine living without them. And as they are profoundly spiritual creatures – the Old and New Testament are crammed with references to them – they will help make a day of rest especially meaningful.