Friday, April 20, 2012

More Thoughts

     Consider this as just one of hundreds of potential scenarios. Your child has outgrown his/her pony. You think passing the pony, we'll call Truffle, on to another child would be the right think to do. After all, the pony is young, well trained and could be a fine ride for someone of the correct size. So you give/sell Truffle to a trusted friend, after all your child can still visit and hop on for a little ride. As the trailer containing Truffle pulls away your child cries inconsolably and begs you to her her keep her. You lovingly hug and hush the child and tell her you will be getting her another to take Truffle's place. She can progress in her riding skills on a more suitable horse.
       Time passes your child does well as a rider, horses come and go, but there is never another Truffle. Some night she dreams of Truffle who comes and takes her for rides.
Truffle is passed from hand to hand as each child outgrows her until she is lost in the world. But your child, now a grown woman still remembers the pony who dried her tears in her mane. The one she sat with (or on) in the field as she did her homework, read a book, or just day dreamed. The one who was her constant, her very best friend.
        Where Truffle ends up, no one knows.
        As an adult, your child starts to search for Truffle. She wants to bring her home, no matter what the cost, she wants her best friend to live in peace with her for the rest of her life. You never outgrow your first pony/horse. There will never be another that you love like that.
The chances of finding Truffle are slim. But if you had the forethought of micro-chipping her before you sent her away, perhaps that might increase the odds.
        I believe that the possibility of a very lucrative business could be on the horizon. If someone found Truffle anywhere, I believe your child would pay any price to get her back. You see love and loyalty is priceless.
A buyer strolling through a sale barn with a micro-chip reader could contact a person, name his price and deliver the beloved one to your door. They would be much more valuable to the finder than the few hundred they would get from a slaughter house. That person would be a hero, not a murderer.
       What do you think people? Perhaps that is the way to go. We aren't going to stop people who have historically eaten horses, but at least we may be able to save our family members.

More About Microchips

     I have been thinking about horse slaughter, and I wonder why some groups of horses bothers me more than others. As I thought of the Premarin industry and their throw aways, I realized why they bother me less than thoroughbreds and other used up riding or working horses. For years I wondered why, on 3/26/2012 I found the answer. Foals born to the Premarin group, if they aren't rescued, for the most part, are probably turned out in a pasture to live out their short lives. They eat they play, they hang out – until the day they reach the proper size. Then they are gathered and sent off to die. Their meat consumed by the horse eating humans on earth somewhere. They are the same as the beef cattle burgers that we eat in our beef eating USA. No one ever loves them, they are never halter broken or ridden. They are never slaves to humans. They have value as food animals and are treated accordingly.
       The others, those who have been loved, nurtured, cared for, ridden and partners to humans, it is almost like cannibalism. Now that seems like a bit much, but think about it. It is a betrayal beyond measure. I have had and do have now, horses that are almost extensions of myself. With Faith and Fancy, I don't know where they end and I begin. The thought of my never loving them again, to send them off to be murdered and eaten, is beyond my ability to grasp. How can such a thing be allowed to happen?
      These horses are like children. They depend on us for everything, food, shelter, comfort, and yes,love. They respond to love, return it to us, and become our friends and family members. They have daily schedules that they instinctively keep track of, and always know what time it is, such as feeding time (ask Faith about that, she always knows). They recognize us as their very own human. I was at a horse show once and left Stormy in the care of a friend. From the other side of the show ground she heard me talking to someone - I'm pretty loud, being Italian and deaf. She managed to escape from my friend and very carefully, without anyone noticing she was a loose horse, she gently nudged her way through the crowd to stand at my side. With a soft nicker she said “Hi, I'm here”.
       The loss of Stormy, the best friend, next to Jehovah God, that I have ever known, was so profound that after thirty-four years I still miss her. Stormy loved me so much that nothing on earth mattered more to her. I still can't believe she is dead. This was a partnership that has continued beyond death. She is the reason that EOTS exists. I know exactly where she is. She is safely dead. She never was away from me. She was never entrusted to anyone else. She was never lost in the world to end up in some horrible murder factory to be eaten by humans or as pet food.
       She died too young. I still don't know what killed her. The pain I felt at her loss, the empty place that was her spirit joined to mine, is still there.
       All horses are capable of this kind of relationship. When I think of all the horses who were slaves or partners to us, I see betrayed children. I think of the, possibly, one person that loved each, until, under whatever circumstance they were lost to each other in the world. I think of the many humans who so loved their first horse, ones who would move mountains to bring that one home to live out his/her last days. Why can't we make that possible? If these horses were micro-chipped we would always know where they are. You can be sure of one absolute fact, the horse will remember you!They never forget their friends.
And so, there is a difference. Maybe the term cannibalism is extreme. But that's how I feel about my family members. Imagine Stormy waiting in line in a horror murder parlor. Looking over the heads of the other condemned souls – looking for me to come and save her. Picture your own horse, your child's first pony – wouldn't you perhaps agree that I am not that far from the truth?