It is now woven into our daily lives, this ritual, this morning brushing of the donkeys, out in the pole barn. We get up, let the chickens out of the coop, feed the dogs and cats, clean the manure out of the barn. Then, the donkeys silently present themselves, glide over to us, wait for us quietly, as we brush them, one by one. This began as something that was an occasional thing, it has become something that has been imprinted on them, it is important to them. Us too. Each waits while the others are brushed, Fanny gets impatient and noses us gently to pay more attention to her, Simon stands glacially, patiently, waiting his turn, loving the attention, Lulu more vigilant, a little restless but still wanting to be brushed. Something we never thought of for most of our lives, now something we would not miss, a healing, calming, peaceful thing.