A three-year-old was sacrificed to Mammon, the god of wealth, on Saturday. She ran her heart out and nearly won, at the price of her life. At the Kentucky Derby's wire she had two broken legs and had to be destroyed. Eight Belles died for our sins.
I fell in love with animals as a young child, and my greatest passion was reserved for horses. It was an obsession for me when I was young. I used to regret that I was born too late for the heyday of real "horsepower," but when I matured a little I realized that humankind's mechanization was a blessing for the horse. In this country, at least, the horse no longer had to be a slave to those who only wanted his speed or strength and didn't respect him as a living creature with value beyond dollars and cents.
Or so I thought in my innocence. When we're young we think in terms of black and white. Today's sport of horseracing, dubbed "The Sport of Kings," indeed boasts horse lovers as owners, riders, trainers, spectators, bettors, etc. But the poor creature is commonly sacrificed at the altar of Mammon. A colt of good bloodlines costs a bundle, and with great good luck, may become a champion who repays that many times over. He is pampered with the best of care, but by age two -- far before maturity at age 4 or 6, with bones yet to reach their strongest -- the twin demands of speed and weight bearing are loaded onto him.
There is an old saying among horsemen, "No foot, no horse." A running horse at certain points has all his considerable weight upon just one foot, and a broken leg is not such an uncommon thing with a youngster running at top speed with a weight upon his back. And with a large quadruped who can't adopt a new means of locomotion, recovery is protracted and dicey, and may be deemed an expense not worth taking. The champion thoroughbred Barbaro had the best, most advanced veterinary care money could buy, and plenty of time, but one broken leg from a race still claimed his life in the end. Two broken legs are a definite death sentence.
It is such a sad thing in this supposedly enlightened age that we take beautiful animals that are advanced enough to find joy in life, and callously use them up and dispose of them for our entertainment and monetary gain, and all this while they are still youngsters! Horses have benefitted our human civilization for many centuries, and this is how we repay them. When will humanity learn? It took us so many lifetimes to come to the realization that humans are not the only ones capable of feeling pain. But advanced thinkers like Leonardo da Vinci saw the light.
In the time of horse-drawn carriages and plows in England, Anna Sewell wrote a sensitive book from one horse's point of view, and it can still teach us compassion today. "Black Beauty" tells of horses suffering docked (amputated) tails, useless to flick away biting flies, and carriage horses with their heads and necks held relentlessly high with harness straps, so the poor animals couldn't use them for balance when walking or trotting, as nature intended, and no doubt their necks must have ached terribly. All in the name of fashion, or convenience.
As any human should be able to see, we still have far to go in learning to respect the other animals who also live on this planet. I refuse to believe that they were all "put here" just to benefit us, and therefore we may use them any way we see fit. We humans must outgrow that heartless notion. It is childish, cruel, and egocentric, and has done great harm to other species and to this planet in general.
Regard for others is a hallmark of maturity, and although, relatively speaking, our human species is still a youthful one, surely we have been on this earth long enough to have learned that lesson. I don't believe that the other animals (yes, humans are animals, too!) were put here to serve us and die for us. Eight Belles died for human greed, though she was a higher animal capable of feeling pleasure and pain. When will we learn?
I fell in love with animals as a young child, and my greatest passion was reserved for horses. It was an obsession for me when I was young. I used to regret that I was born too late for the heyday of real "horsepower," but when I matured a little I realized that humankind's mechanization was a blessing for the horse. In this country, at least, the horse no longer had to be a slave to those who only wanted his speed or strength and didn't respect him as a living creature with value beyond dollars and cents.
Or so I thought in my innocence. When we're young we think in terms of black and white. Today's sport of horseracing, dubbed "The Sport of Kings," indeed boasts horse lovers as owners, riders, trainers, spectators, bettors, etc. But the poor creature is commonly sacrificed at the altar of Mammon. A colt of good bloodlines costs a bundle, and with great good luck, may become a champion who repays that many times over. He is pampered with the best of care, but by age two -- far before maturity at age 4 or 6, with bones yet to reach their strongest -- the twin demands of speed and weight bearing are loaded onto him.
There is an old saying among horsemen, "No foot, no horse." A running horse at certain points has all his considerable weight upon just one foot, and a broken leg is not such an uncommon thing with a youngster running at top speed with a weight upon his back. And with a large quadruped who can't adopt a new means of locomotion, recovery is protracted and dicey, and may be deemed an expense not worth taking. The champion thoroughbred Barbaro had the best, most advanced veterinary care money could buy, and plenty of time, but one broken leg from a race still claimed his life in the end. Two broken legs are a definite death sentence.
It is such a sad thing in this supposedly enlightened age that we take beautiful animals that are advanced enough to find joy in life, and callously use them up and dispose of them for our entertainment and monetary gain, and all this while they are still youngsters! Horses have benefitted our human civilization for many centuries, and this is how we repay them. When will humanity learn? It took us so many lifetimes to come to the realization that humans are not the only ones capable of feeling pain. But advanced thinkers like Leonardo da Vinci saw the light.
In the time of horse-drawn carriages and plows in England, Anna Sewell wrote a sensitive book from one horse's point of view, and it can still teach us compassion today. "Black Beauty" tells of horses suffering docked (amputated) tails, useless to flick away biting flies, and carriage horses with their heads and necks held relentlessly high with harness straps, so the poor animals couldn't use them for balance when walking or trotting, as nature intended, and no doubt their necks must have ached terribly. All in the name of fashion, or convenience.
As any human should be able to see, we still have far to go in learning to respect the other animals who also live on this planet. I refuse to believe that they were all "put here" just to benefit us, and therefore we may use them any way we see fit. We humans must outgrow that heartless notion. It is childish, cruel, and egocentric, and has done great harm to other species and to this planet in general.
Regard for others is a hallmark of maturity, and although, relatively speaking, our human species is still a youthful one, surely we have been on this earth long enough to have learned that lesson. I don't believe that the other animals (yes, humans are animals, too!) were put here to serve us and die for us. Eight Belles died for human greed, though she was a higher animal capable of feeling pleasure and pain. When will we learn?
