I Can’t See You From Where I’m Standing


I encountered a person yesterday with whom I *should* have common ground, but realized pretty quickly that I don’t. He had a team of Belgians in harness. Horse workers, horse people, the common ground here ought to be the horses. I met them, admired them, and mentioned that I’d done some work for the local draft-horse rescue/sanctuary.

“Those are trash horses” he said, immediately.
My eyebrows shot up into my hairline.
“They should all be at the kill pen.” he added.
The rest of the conversation went along the lines of what a waste of time it was that they have these horses who can’t work any longer, and how they ought to just be sent out for slaughter.

I got out of this conversation as soon as I possibly could, and went off to Ponder and Cogitate.

On a personal level, I take people where I find them.  I don’t often Judge, because even if someone has what I regard as an untenable position, it’s usually pretty easy to see how they might have arrived at this position, and why it makes sense. People are who people are.  This one, though, it really stuck in my craw.

Possibly because The Wonder Horse was obtained at an auction, and the other bidder was someone presumably there to collect future horse meat.  If my trainer hadn’t been there, hadn’t been paying attention, hadn’t been willing to take a chance, I wouldn’t be having any Wonder Horse.  The Wonder Horse would have been sent off in a trailer full of terrified, sick, old, lame horses to be penned up in a terrifying manner, and would have been slaughtered, with terror pouring through his brave heart.

Fuck that shit.

The more I thought about this guy and his perspective, the more I thought, and the more strongly I thought, exactly that:  Fuck that shit.  Fuck that asshole, and everyone like him.

I can understand having a professional relationship with horses.  I can understand not being able to afford to keep horses around that can’t help earn their keep.  Horses are expensive.  The only thing that is in their same league, as far as Pure Expensiveness, is kids.  They cost a bundle, and for someone who needs to earn their livelihood through the work of horses, I can totally understand that you can’t keep them if they can’t help pay.

But to state that at the point when they can no longer pay, they should be sent off and slaughtered, in fear and terror?  Fuck that shit.

What I wish I had the moxie to say to this guy is this:  Those horses give you everything. they. have. you asshole.  How dare you treat another living creature as if it was some kind of THING to use up, and then throw away when you’re tired of it, or it can’t give you any more.  It’s another being, with thoughts, and feelings, and a soul, and energy of its own.  A creature. Not a thing.  And you take everything they have, and when they can’t give you any more, you cast them off into the pit of hell.  Fuck that shit.

You can’t support an animal who has given you everything it had?  You find another home for it, you jerk.  And if you can’t find another home for it, it’s too damaged from your taking what it had to offer, or it’s too old, or too sick, you fucking get your vet out, and you fucking pay to have that animal euthanized in the security of its own home.  You don’t send it off to be frightened, and terrorized, and abused.  And you SURE as hell don’t talk a bunch of smack about people who are cleaning up after the mess you made by irresponsible treatment of your animals. Fuck that shit.

I don’t often judge, but after I thought about this guy, I realized I was more than happy to judge him and his ilk all the way down into the hands of satan.  If there is a satan.  You just don’t go around treating other living beings like trash.  I don’t give a damn what species they are.  You treat them with kindness, and sensitivity, and you treat them humanely.  You don’t throw them away when you’re done using them.  You don’t subject them to agony when they can’t make you happy any more.

There are words for this kind of behavior where I come from.  “Asshole” is the first one on the list, and it just goes downhill from there.  I don’t know that I’d actually be able to find enough words to reflect the degree of contempt and scorn I have for a subhuman life-form who could take this position.

Fuck that shit.


About Lori Holder-Webb

I'm a Southern Woman by birth and a Texan Woman by upbringing...and yet I find myself living in New England and married to a New York City boy. Up here we use the same currency as we do at home, and I don't need to travel with a passport, but the commonalities pretty much end there. The language is different, the jokes are different, the people are different, and the weather and terrain sure are different too. I moved away from Texas in 2002, and ever since then, I've been the stranger in the strange land... I've had some questions about the name of the blog - if you were not alive, or living abroad or under a rock, or in grad school during the late 1980s, Oldsmobile attempted to shuck its stodgy image with a series of commercials intended to bring brand appeal to the younger generation: this car, they said, is not your father's Oldsmobile. If you have a morbid curiosity, hit YouTube for William Shatner Oldsmobile...it will take you right there.

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