EDITORIAL

View from a Broad
June 3, 2007

They Eat Horses, Don't They?

Ah, yes, language.  I'm a writer—I love language, and the subtle nuances.  Because of spoken and written language, we can woo our beloved; sing a lullabye; express outrage or sway hearts and minds.  Language is potentially a very good thing.

In the hands of politicians, however, language often becomes convoluted.  Facts can be distorted by the simple omission of a letter.  Nations have risen and fallen because of clever political speeches.  (Not all politicians use language for ill-gain, of course:  FDR, Churchill and Henry V all knew how to stir the human soul, comforting and encouraging in one breath.  Rep. John E. Sweeney [NY], backed by Rep. Ed Whitfield [KY] are two of the Very Good Guys.  Rep. Sweeney introduced the anti-slaughter bill; Rep. Whitfield seconded it.)

But the politicians about whom I'm writing today are those who stand to gain votes and graft by distorting the law and murdering thousands of horses, donkeys and burros. 

Yes, this rant is about slaughter.  Probably the ugliest topic in all of horsedom, but one which needs addressing. 

We must wrestle slaughter to the ground, and pummel it into submission. 

Let's start with the basics:  we in the United States do not eat horses or other equines.  In our culture, they're considered to be domesticated (e.g.,  our beloved Thoroughbreds) or nationally sacred (wild mustangs of the west, or the ponies of North Carolina).  Either way—Americans have a long-standing interdependent relationship with the horse, since the species first set hoof on these shores with the Spanish invaders.

Americans don't buy, cook, sell or eat horses.  Not only it is distasteful to our cultural mores—it's illegal.

So why, then, is it legal to slaughter them here—in the most excruciatingly painful, vicious manner imaginable? 

Money.  That's all, just money.  Filthy lucre.  You see, we don't eat horses—but people in Japan, France and Belgium do.  I'm not judging those people—please don't get all righteous on me—we have different cultures, different ways of perceiving.  The role of equines is one of the things about which we don't see eye-to-eye.  And I'm good with that.

I can accept that those in other countries eat horseflesh:  I think it's disgusting, but I accept it.  I can't do anything to change it, so I'm not going to throttle every Frenchman I meet.  But my reluctant acceptance of their distasteful culinary practice does not, in any way, indicate that I am willing to help them prep the meal. 

In fact, it's a national disgrace that Americans own, work in or are involved in any way in the mass slaughter of horses, donkeys and burros—so that those in, say, Belgium who want a nice, juicy Thoroughbred filet or donkey tripe—can fill their bellies with our equines.

That is just wrong.

(I could write pages here, about the root causes of equine slaughter, and how we can fix those causes.  A little taste of the argument:  there are scores of things we can do to assure that there's no surplus of "unwanted horses"—a favorite phrase of slaughter fans.  A longer conversation, or legitimate summit is long overdue.  I'll touch on one aspect here:  we must stop breeding horses—of all breeds—like it's the last party the night before the Apocalypse. 

Thoroughbreds, Quarter Horses, Standardbreds—are all overbred to a certain extent.    Fortunately for our beautiful breed [Thoroughbreds], a live cover is required.   Artificial Insemination, as practiced in other breeds, such as the Quarter Horse industry, allow for many, many more foals born every year.  And the more foals born, the more likely the breed is watered down and that those deemed "unusable" end up in the kill-pens.  This mass overbreeding often results in a callousness of heart:  the horse is no more than a product for disposal when it becomes inconvenient to care for them.)

So the "surplus" of members of the equine species is one of the causes for equine slaughter.    And the simplest, most "convenient" way to dispose of the surplus just so happens to be the way for certain politicians and killers to make money—blood money, riding on the backs of thousands of innocent animals.

Animals that can feel pain and experience terror.  (Even if you're profoundly stupid, and believe that horses, donkeys and burros don't have emotions—and therefore can't know fear—you must at least concede to the scientific fact that horses have central nervous systems, and obviously can feel excruciating pain.)

The causes for slaughter's continued support by the American Quarter Horse Association are myriad, and unacceptable.   Read this piece, and realize that every single word of their "response" is a lie:

http://www.aqha.com/association/publicpolicy/Myth_Fact_828Final_2.pdfc

So what can we do? 

We're at a critical juncture now, the place where slaughter has been banned—technically. 

But several key people stand to gain by the continued murder of equines, including:  

*  U.S. Department of Agriculture inspectors (who look away and take side-money from slaughterhouses); *  the slaughterhouse owners, themselves;
*  dirty politicians, and those who are missing spines;
*  and the several hundred employees of said Murder Palaces—people who could, in fact, take jobs in other industries.  (I mean, don't you wonder what kind of sick mind enjoys hearing horses scream, and cutting into them while they're still alive??  Anyone who enjoys a job like this is probably sociopathic, and grateful for the opportunity to slaughter a living being while its heart is still beating.  Those people don't need jobs, they need therapists.)

And what can we do?

We can scream like crazy.  We can raise our voices, demanding that Texas not be allowed to institute a "special amendment,"  which will, in reality, legally reinstitute slaughter.   

Our society has become complacent, so utterly unconcerned with anyone outside our own sphere of influence, that we continue to allow horrible injustices to prevail even when we don't approve in our hearts.  Being disgusted isn't enough to inspire us to pick up the phone, or compose a three-minute protest email.

And by not acting, we fail to take advantage of our glorious freedom of speech, for which so many fought and died in the 18th Century.   In this country, we have the right to call our legislators; send angry emails and letters and demand that they do our bidding.  They are, after all, our employees—not the reverse.  We don't work for the government, the government is supposed to work for us.

You can bet that the murderers who kill horses, donkeys and burros because it's just-so-darned easy know this fact.  They lobby the politicians, and pay those who are most helpful to their twisted cause. 

There are many options to the "unwanted" equines in this country, including halting overbreeding; adoption and rescue.  And for those equines who are just too sick or injured, it is actually possible to lovingly, gently euthanize them with a needle and a kind hand stroking their heads in their final seconds.  

Our cats, dogs and ferrets deserve a dignified exit surrounded by kindness—don't our horses deserve that, too?

If you're enraged by the concept of equine slaughter, do something about it.  Call your local legislator—the instructions are here, in this letter from www.endhorseslaughtering.com.  Read this piece, and then actually act on it.  I did it, but I'm just one Opinionated Broad.  If every woman who reads this "View" of mine passes it on to five other women, and they pass it on to five other women, and so on—and all those women make calls, send emails and demand that Texas be forced to obey the law—equine slaughter will finally grind to a halt.

If thinking about the horses' torture and death is something you work to avoid—I assure you, it's not going away just because you don't want to think about it.   If that thought is too hard for you—try to imagine how hard it is for them, to endure the pain and fear. 

We women have opposable thumbs, and speak human language.  Let's use those attributes to help those beautiful, kind critters who can't dial a phone, and whose gratitude can only be expressed by their loving nickers as we approach them in the paddocks, barns, shedrows and plains across the United States. 

We'll all sleep better at night. 

Slaughter opponents won't sleep so well as they watch the funds drain from their pockets like the blood of their former victims.

But frankly, my dears—I don't give a damn.