Ironically, reading to farm animals is not dissimilar to reading to 7-year-olds. Both audiences listen politely, adopt curious expressions, show interest in the pictures, and laugh in all the right places. Best of all they treat me like a rockstar.

Three times in my life I have had the extraordinary experience of coming across a Western Tiger Swallowtail Butterfly Larva. In street language? A caterpillar. Always in a place of risk and danger – on a walking path, in a parking lot, on the metal frame of a hot screen door. “Where are they going?”

Recently I started volunteering at a farm animal sanctuary once a week near my home - mostly I just scoop poop (say that three times fast), but with that mundane task comes the big thrill of getting to bond with the menagerie of animals who live at the sanctuary. I am a city girl through and through, so this has been the neatest experience for me. I bring apples for everyone, which makes me very popular. And I’m in heaven for a couple of hours a week.

When Molly and her companions were loaded onto a stock trailer that was headed to the slaughterhouse/meat packing plant in January of 2006, I can’t help but wonder what they sensed. All mammals have hormones that surge through their bodies when stressed. So, the morning Molly made her escape – what motivated her run? Was it fear? Gumption? An understanding that her life was in danger?

I am so interested in the natural world that you would think I’d have gone into the sciences and become something official, like a biologist. I’ve certainly been quite moved by the encounters I’ve had with the natural world - some of it pedestrian, some of it wondrous. All experiences have spawned questions and have compelled me forward into new learning.

Wild animals have their lives figured out. They’re out there contentedly doing their wild thing. They don’t need us or want us around. But how many times have I gotten involved because I think I’m helping – how many times have I swooped in to help an injured bird with, if I’m being honest, very poor results. Countless! When is it right to step in? And when should we leave mother nature alone?

Do you know what a “doddie” is? How about a “hummlie?” Fun to pronounce! These are what the black cattle of northeast Scotland are called – the Aberdeen Angus breed that was developed in the early 19th Century. Molly, the second protagonist in my picture book, THE MOLLYS B. is a Brockle-faced Angus meaning that she is mostly black but has white markings on her face. I think the blaze on her forehead – shaped like a tornado – tells you everything you need to know about this gal’s personality.