Too Many Horses, Not Enough Love

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There are too many horses in the United States. So many so, that in 2016, 125,608 of them were shipped to slaughter in Mexico and Canada. Most years, we intercept a few and bring them to our sanctuary, Locket’s Meadow, to live out their lives in safety – fed, cared for and loved. In 2019, despite a dire need for more homes for horses, we didn’t rescue any new ones, instead focusing on bull calves who were previously destined to become veal, as well as goats and sheep. Why? Because horses are the most expensive animals to maintain and we knew we couldn’t afford another, nor could we provide anymore adequate shelter. The horse section of the sanctuary is full.

While we are a non-profit, my husband, David, and I fund the vast majority of our operation, with hay and feed alone costing more than $2,000 each week. Over and above that, horses require hoof care (several thousand dollars a month for our herd of around 40,) vet care, parasite control, supplements and medicine for countless reasons . . . oh yes, and then there’s mortgages and utilities and everything else . . . but it’s what we do because I love horses and my husband, well, he loves me. Poor David . . .

But back to the problem of too many horses. Those of you not in the rescue business may not know this, but the issue of excess horses and what to do about them is a matter of massive, angry and bitter debate. In fact, the very existence of horses, or any domesticated animals for that matter, is also up for debate (but I will save that for a later rant . . .) The tragedy is that most of the people wrestling over the situation all agree they love horses, but most every one has a different opinion as to how their population should be “controlled.” For example, the American Quarter Horse Association (AQHA) believes the solution to “excess” horses, including their breed-of-choice, is slaughter. In their statement about their support of horse slaughter they talk about animals starving, neglected, abused . . . but they never mention money. Which is a shame, because in the end, it is only about money. Quarter horse breeders pump out tens of thousands of foals each year, looking for that perfect performer (hopefully a stud who will continue to make bank for them after retiring, siring lots and lots more horses) knowing full well that thousands of foals won’t be up to snuff and will eventually end up meat after a really terrifying, brutal and painful last few weeks.

As an aside, I find it interesting that people breed millions of unwanted dogs each year, but we never consider slaughter the answer to that problem; rather, they are humanely euthanized. By the truckload. Hell, if I’m gonna go on this particular tangent, I may as well add that when we watch videos of live dogs in Asian countries solidly packed and stacked in trailers on their way to slaughter, we are HORRIFIED! We would NEVER ship our millions of unwanted dogs to slaughterhouses and then to Asia as a meat product! We LOVE our dogs! Yet we profess to love horses while thousands of trailers, just as solidly packed with them . . . many of them sick, injured, pregnant . . . haul them to slaughterhouses every year. They are slaughtered and butchered, then shipped to Europe and Asia while most people turn a blind eye . . . I mean, like, they aren’t dogs, or anything . . . sigh . . . OK, tangent over, back to topic . . .

It can cost several hundred dollars to humanely euthanize a horse. Depending upon the weight of a horse, their flesh can be worth hundreds of dollars at market . . . money . . . money!!! It’s always about money . . . and how dare we ask people to take on the responsibility for offing their own beloved (or income producing) animals when they are no longer wanted when they can make a few bucks as they send their unwanted carcasses on their way?

To be fair, there are a lot of other organizations aside from AQHA, horse and otherwise, that are pro horse slaughter, and again, to be fair, it’s still all about money.

You might think animal rescue organizations would work together to find the solution to this enormous problem, but you’d be wrong. I’ve been at this rescue business for almost twenty years, and wow . . . nope . . . not so much. I was so naïve in the beginning, thinking that “loving” a horse meant the same thing to everyone. I have been well educated since then, thank you very much! It’s insanity and totally senseless, with organizations standing on principles that have nothing to do with reality. For example, the following excerpt is about two groups, both of them declaring they love animals. Below is an article about their all-too-typical dispute. This is a quote from CBS Boston, December 20, 2019:

“A non-profit horse rescue is shutting down. Online criticism may be to blame.

At Blue Star Farm in West Brookfield, the owners started rescuing horses years ago. Now, they have 28.

They are mostly draft horses that spent their lives working. Most pulled carriages, some were in police mounted units and some worked in fields. So in retirement, their new owners at Blue Star made sure the horses continued to work.

But some animal rights groups disagreed, saying the horses should simply run free. So the groups slammed the farm on Facebook, managing to convince the social media giant to remove the farm’s page, which is how they raise money to support the animals.”

The Facebook account was shut down just before Giving Tuesday, a fundraiser that we in the non-profit rescue world have grown to depend on. Blue Star normally would reap at least $15,000 in donations that day, but this time they only raised $1,200. They didn’t have the funds to make it through the winter, nor the heart, and after years of battling with those who advocate for letting the horses “run free,” they finally gave up. As I write this, Blue Star is in the process of placing 28 horses, a monumental task, and these horses have gone from complete safety into potentially dangerous situations (few people are as amazing as they like to say they are on their adoption applications.) Organizations who claim they love horses did a very bad thing . . . and they still didn’t achieve what they wanted, because all of these animals are going to homes where they will still be “captive,” and many will still have jobs. WHAT WAS THE FREAKIN’ POINT? They were never gonna get to run free! (This is why, when people ask me how to start an animal rescue organization, I advise them to become independently wealthy and then go for it . . . something we neglected to do in advance . . . doh!)

And while I’m here . . . why not let the horses run wild and free? Well, the two biggest reasons are these . . . where will they run free? And WHY? THEY AREN’T WILD ANYMORE AND THEY CAN’T SURVIVE THAT WAY! Ahem . . . sorry . . . I will calm down . . . But first, let’s visit the wild mustangs of the American West. So beautiful, so romantic . . . so . . . doomed. Why? Because they compete for land with beef cattle, and the beef lobby will win every single time . . . you know, money . . . so the Bureau of Land Management, or BLM, the organization in charge of equines living on public lands, rounds them up using helicopters and ATVs, (a terrifying and heartbreaking event that many mustangs don’t survive due to broken legs from panicking . . . Google it, if you dare) herd them into crowded corrals and . . . just keep them there, baking in the hot sun, far from the cattle grazing on mustang land that was rightfully theirs. Some are shipped around the country to be purchased at auctions. Some languish in their corrals, and many die from the crowded, unsanitary conditions as well as injuries received in their pens. But Americans want their beef, and if they don’t know that wild mustangs, a national treasure, suffer and die so beef cattle can graze on our public lands (put aside partly for the reason of sustaining aforementioned wild horses) well, whatever . . . bring on the burgers!

Did I digress again? Sorry . . . I will try to behave, but . . . you know . . . horses . . .

So, now that we know there really isn’t any safe place for horses to run free, let’s talk about domesticated horses that actually are turned loose and allowed all that freedom some humans believe they deserve.

Let’s take a quick visit to West Virginia, where thousands of domesticated horses run free on thousands of acres. Idyllic! Inspiring! And yet . . . the following excerpt about these horses is by Tinia Creamer, Director of Heart of Phoenix Equine Rescue, INC:

 

“Many were dropped off, some had ‘owners’ who turned them out or claimed them all while using land illegally and dangerously and not providing any or enough care. They were reproducing across these lands.

They were injured, emaciated and reproducing. Few thrived, and almost none did well for long.

People were shooting them for sport, chasing them on ATVs, they were being hit on road ways, they were falling into mining locations, they were starving because the re-claimed land and active mine lands weren’t growing anything nutrient dense, and no one knew this was happening in West Virginia outside of the counties experiencing this, let alone nationwide.”

She went on to explain that there are fewer horses now, all for very bad reasons.

Tinia Creamer has spent ten years advocating for and rescuing these horses from their “wild” environment and adopting them to safe homes because horses ARE NOT WILD ANIMALS ANYMORE AND THEY CAN’T THRIVE, NEVER MIND SURVIVE! They need adequate nutrition, hoof care, safe pasture, and dare I say it . . . LOVE and COMPANIONSHIP to thrive and be happy! They are no different from domesticated dogs, who would probably fare better than horses if we decided to set them all free (aside from the obvious road carnage, and the problem of dogs scratching at front doors to be let into people’s houses for dinner . . . because we can’t actually undo domestication! Well, aside from cats, but . . . you know . . . cats . . . always defying the odds . . .)

And we go on and on . . . Some horse rescuers believe horses should be trained, as a trained horse is a safe horse (trust me, this is the truth!) and training can keep them safer from slaughter. Others believe they should be given space and have their autonomy respected, even if they don’t know what that is. There are those who believe no animals should be paid for, even in a rescue situation, as it demeans them as property (although I don’t know a single horse pulled out of a kill pen who ever quibbled about an idea as trivial as an exchange of money for their life – if it’s ransom or death, they are all gonna choose ransom.) Locket’s Meadow has been harshly criticized for giving pony rides at our fundraising events because animals “should not be used for entertainment,” even though our horses love pony ride days and all the attention they get from them . . . And we go round and round and round and round, but meanwhile, these horses that we LOVE with all our hearts, are suffering because we all believe we know what’s best for them (and in most cases, best for our wallets because horses are definitely big business from breeding to slaughter) and almost nobody is asking them what they want from life.

Except . . . I can. I have been talking to horses, and they have been talking back to me, for my entire life. As each horse comes into our rescue, we work though their issues (or not, especially if they come from the Amish world . . . more on that another time . . .) Some love having a job, contributing to what they see as their herd, or family. Others worked enough, thank you very much, and want to hang around and eat hay all day. Some start out thrilled to be a part of our programs, but there comes a day when they decide they are done, and we say, sure . . . go chill with the other retired ponies. Because we are a self-funded rescue (but don’t get me wrong, we are happy to accept donations!) we have the luxury of allowing our horses the freedom to choose. Hell, we have a few horses who’ve decided they don’t want to be in paddocks anymore, so I made them promise to stay on the property if I let them loose; they have never crossed the borders of our land.

What do horses want? There are as many answers as there are horses. The biggest crime we commit against them is the one where we lump them all into one group and decide what’s best for the whole lot. Sure, we created them thousands of years ago, but just as many of us believe we were created by a kind and loving God, and pray for mercy and justice, horses look to their creator “gods” for the same mercy and justice. We seldom measure up. In fact, we are a pretty crappy bunch of gods who seldom do right by the animals we have brought into this world.

Truly, we suck.

I can’t tell you what all horses want, at least not the ones I haven’t met. But I can tell you the stories of some of those that I have known . . . their loves, their passions, their sadness and regrets.

I am a Horse Girl, kissed by the soft lips of a pony long before I was born, and my job, or so they tell me, is to speak for them. So, sit back and have your hankies ready . . . their stories will be coming shortly . . .

I may not know what horses want, but they sure do.

Kathleen Schurman, and her husband David, own Locket’s Meadow Rescue Sanctuary in Bethany, CT. Kathleen works as a psychic and animal communicator to help support the animals, and also writes children’s books about them.

Visit www.locketsmeadow.org for more information, or find us on Facebook. 

 

I am the Horse Girl

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I Am the Horse Girl

I didn’t call to the horses. They called to me.

I was born to love them. My first dreams were of horses; when I was still in my crib I would wake with visions of prancing ponies in my head. My first word, much to my mother’s confusion, was “horsey.” We lived between Interstate 95 and the railroad tracks – no ponies in sight – why would “horsey” come before “Mama?” Or even “train?”

When I was 3-years old, I taught myself how to read using Dr. Suess’ One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish. I was driven to learn so I could read our book, which had a cover engraving of a little girl riding a pony. It was titled, “All Around the Neighborhood.” Oh, to be the little girl riding her pony around the block! When I could finally read it, I was devastated to discover there was not a single horse story between its covers. (I have not yet recovered, and this happened in 1964. . . inaccurate book covers should be banned and burned!)

I endlessly begged my Daddy to take me for pony rides. On Sunday mornings in Southport, Connecticut, they could be had a few miles away, 25 cents for three laps around a small ring. It happened so seldom, but when it did, it was the only time I felt completely happy and complete, five minutes of bliss . . . and I believed my being there did the same for the ponies. Horse girls and people ponies recognize and need each other!

Why are there horse girls? Some people say it’s a genetic predisposition, but I never knew of another in my family. However . . . I have some insider information about this; ponies, contrary to popular belief, are not born of little girls’ wishes. Horse girls are born of the wishes of ponies. THEY NEED US MORE THAN WE NEED THEM! (Which, to a horse girl, seems impossible as how could anyone need anything as much as we need horses? Really . . . HOW???)

Thousands of years ago, humans began domesticating horses. Over the centuries we tamed them and made them completely dependent upon us. We created domesticated horses, and now they need us to love and protect them from the bad people who would hurt them, and those bad people are legion (visit a livestock auction and watch terrified ponies load onto the trailers headed to Mexico and Canada and certain death – you will never be the same.)

The horses choose their horse girls long before we are born, en utero. They gently kiss us with the softest of noses, a feeling we never forget and always crave, then tap us with a tiny hoof and anoint us with the sweet perfume of horse sweat. They declare we are one of them, then trot away to leave us to our gestation while we dream of a sunny, grassy hillside where we are surrounded by grazing ponies.

We are born searching for long noses and soft eyes. We sniff the air for pony-scent and instead are greeted by talcum powder and brewing coffee. We love our parents and families and are content to be with them, but we are always, always searching over their shoulders for our true soul mates, the fuzzy, whinnying family members who touched our souls long before we ever gazed upon our human mamas’ faces. We are obsessed! We have been touched, and are, by any psychiatrist’s evaluation,  seriously “touched.”

Not all of us find our way to our ponies, no matter how desperately we try. I had encounters as a child, never enough, and was always searching, always sniffing the breeze. I didn’t get my first pony until I was 39, a little paint named Cressida whom we adored. My sensible self told me that was enough, but my pony soul would not be denied. A magnificent paint/draft cross, Falstaff, was right behind. Within a year we had established a horse rescue, and every pony I had ever wished for on my birthday, each horse I had called to as the first star of the night sky, finally found their way to me. It turns out when a pony first chose me, they chose well; I was late to the party, but I compensated well!

Over the years I have loved many animals, all of them so special. Every rescue I’ve taken in . . . dogs, cats, hens, roosters, goats, sheep, pigs, llamas, geese, ducks, steers . . . so many more . . . have held a special place in my heart. My love for them was so intense that despite serious concerns (and rather severe annoyance) by my family, I became a vegetarian in 1982, and a vegan several years later. I think of myself as an “animal person” because I love them all, from spiders and worms to whales and elephants. But when I take a moment and think about where it all started, I can’t help but remember my dreams of ponies, and awakening to gaze though the bars of my crib, searching . . . sniffing . . . and I know in my soul . . .

I am the horse girl.

See also Too Many Horses, Not Enough Love
What He Did For Love; The Story of Sir John Falstaff

Kathleen Schurman, along with her husband, David, own Locket’s Meadow Rescue Sanctuary in Bethany, CT, where they care for nearly 150 rescued animals, more than 40 of them horses. Visit www.locketsmeadow.org for more information, or find us on Facebook. 

 

Things to be Grateful For – By an Animal Rescuer

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We are grateful for:

Our Animal Friends, who give us more than we could ever give in return. Many of them have seen a hell that we pray we never experience, and yet they still find room in their hearts to live, love and forgive. Every day they remind us of why we’ve chosen to do this job.

Our Patient Families, who still love us in spite of ourselves. We know we suck. We know we are always feeding, cleaning, feeding, mucking, feeding, dumping grain bags, etc. etc. until we pass out at night before we get around to answering that last text. We mean well, but . . . we are asleep, often before our youngest grandchildren. Thank you for understanding when we miss important events because there is nobody else to feed and muck. Our hearts are there, and we love you always.

Our Patient Friends, who, like our family, know the best way to have any quality time with us, is to show up, pick up a muck rake, and follow us around. Again, we know we suck. We wish we could do the social scene the way normal people can, but . . . we can’t. I haven’t sat in a Starbucks for at least three years . . . maybe four . . . who knows, it’s a blur. Those who stick it out with us, thank you. Those who continue to invite us to social events despite knowing we will have to decline, thank you. It makes us feel “normal,” and that maybe one day . . . we might just be able to say yes . . . we are grateful that you still hope we might . . .

Our Volunteers, who come out and help us to do a really hard, crappy job, for the sheer joy of being near the animals. You rejoice with us with every new rescue, you cry with us when we lose a dear friend. You make us feel we are not in this alone, and for that, well, there are no words to describe our gratitude.

Our Donors . . . we know there are so many other things you could opt to do with your money, and we know how hard you work to earn it. That you choose to help us feed and care for nearly 150 rescued animals is humbling; we never feel we are worthy enough, doing enough, rescuing enough . . . the fact that you believe in what we do inspires us to keep slogging through the mud, both metaphorical and physical, every single day. We are grateful that you love our animals . . . and all animals . . . and we stand in awe of your generosity and kindness.

Our Veterinarians, who probably think we are crazy, but are kind enough not to mention it, at least not in front of us. You are patient when we are panicked, you risk your lives and possible speeding tickets to get to us in emergencies, you are gentle when we have to say goodbye to our dear animal friends, and sometimes even cry alongside us. You are patient when we struggle to pay our bills, and grateful that you know we always will, no matter how long it takes or how much harder we have to work. How you put up with this crazy animal rescue farm, we will never know, but . . . for you, we are deeply grateful.

Our Strong Bodies, which, by all rights, should have given up on us a long time ago. They go above and beyond, shoveling miles of knee-deep (and sometimes hip-deep) snow so we can get to the paddocks with heavy feed buckets and water. They lift dozens of 50-pound bags of grain, push a thousand pounds of manure to the pile every day, carry 150 pound ailing goats and sheep into the barns, carry and hammer fence boards, and so much more. Every single day, despite their age and wear and tear. My quads should just say no when I ask them to help me trim a herd of goat hooves in an afternoon, and yet they hang in there with me until I’m done . . . doing their best to stay as willing as my heart.

Our Battered, Shattered Hearts, which should have run screaming into the night years ago. We ask them to fall in love over, and over, and over again, knowing we are only setting them up for a fall, as we will almost always outlive our rescued babies. The pain never lessens . . . in fact, it get more intense with time and loss. As we age, we only better learn the value of each perfect life that we have pulled from kill auctions, high-kill shelters, abuse, neglect, abandonment . . . every single one of them is precious to us and saying goodbye is always a knife to our hearts. Promising them as they leave us that we won’t give up, that we will stick it out and continue to save and care for as many as we can, is the next knife to the heart. And worst of all, the pain our hearts endure when we have to say “no,” fully aware that we have doomed a perfectly perfect and deserving living being to a terrifying and painful fate. Holy crap, the biggest dagger to the heart is when our trailer is full and we see the eyes of those we have to leave behind. And for them, we steel our hearts and keep going forward. What we ask of our hearts is impossible, and yet they valiantly keep beating.

Open-Minded People, who are brave enough to allow the animals to affect them, change them, and maybe even alter the way they move through this world, choosing to be more humane, caring and compassionate to our fellow Earthlings (because every living being is an Earthling, not just humans . . . we share this planet!) We know you are setting your hearts up for a lifetime of injury when you allow yourselves to feel how humans treat animals in this world. We also, however, know the joy you experience when you make a meaningful and deep connection. YOU are the hope for the future of our planet, one in which all of us, human and animal, live in harmony, caring for each other and our Mother Earth. And you are the ones who might someday make our jobs obsolete, so that my husband and I can maybe . . . just maybe . . . accept those social invitations that still trickle in on occasion from those who haven’t given up on us.

For you, and for all of the above, we are deeply and sincerely grateful, and we wish you joy, love and peace, on this holiday of gratitude, and always.

Kathleen Schurman and her poor, long-suffering husband, David, are owned by the animals of Locket’s Meadow in Bethany, Connecticut. They will be very grateful for a vegan Thanksgiving dinner with their family later today (yes, there will be roast tofu!) Of course, only after the animals are fed and watered . . .

 

 

A Short Modern History of Veganism . . . or . . . Winning the fight for the animals, one veggie burger at a time

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When I first became a vegetarian for ethical reasons, in 1982, I was a walking freak show. Firstly, I was the only veggie I knew at the time. I’d met several other people who’d dabbled in it, but both of them returned to the way of the carnivore, and I meandered on alone until my daughter joined me nine years later after vomiting up yet another meal of pork provided by a relative. Secondly, it wasn’t easy to find “safe” food, especially while at other people’s homes or in restaurants (people seemed to delight in sneaking meat and dairy into my meals . . . like, why? Really?) Thirdly, if one more person asked me where I got my protein from . . . OMG . . . please, PLEASE make it stop! I couldn’t tell anyone when I’d morphed into eating a vegan diet because, well . . . it was too . . . time consuming.

Thirty-seven years later, I haven’t yet died the gruesome death predicted for me decades ago, mostly by friends and family who quickly grew bored with my choice, even though I never spoke about it unless asked. I also packed my own food wherever I went and brought enough to share, because, dammit, everyone always wanted some as I’m a freakin’ amazing veggie cook.

But that’s not what this blog is about. At all. Actually, I want to discuss the remarkable progress we’ve made, as well as the fact that no matter how far ethical vegans and animal rights activists have come (some are both, some are not, but they are not mutually exclusive) we will never finish the job if we don’t stop wasting our energy beating the crap out of each other and instead put all our efforts into progress for the animals and for the planet. Because . . . again . . . mutually exclusive movements, they are not.

My husband and I have a farm animal sanctuary named Locket’s Meadow. Most people take that at face value, while others, no matter how many animals we have rescued (so many hundreds . . . and if you count the worms I move out of the road when I walk the dogs after a rain, thousands, maybe MILLIONS as I NEVER leave a worm to die) will argue to their last breath that we SUCK and they don’t consider us a “vegan” rescue because we train horses to be ridden if their health and disposition are amenable to it. Also, people like us aren’t demanding immediate change to turn Earth into a perfect vegan utopia of a world because, truth-be-told, we deal in reality. And . . . whatever. My feelings aren’t hurt by their judgment. The world is what it currently is and we do the best we can with what we have. We can’t waste time on semantics when the immediate situation is so dire. However, we’ve been in this animal-lover/rescue/sanctuary business a lot longer than most, and we see change that we never would have believed. Think about these developments . . .

Vegan Burgers. Thirty-seven years ago, there were no veggie burgers except those we made from scratch with lentils. Now they are everywhere, all brands and kinds. I’m confused by the vegans who argue against the plant-based Impossible Whopper; in 1982 we never dreamed of such an amazing thing! We would order a burger, hold the meat, add extra condiments and pickles, and be happy that Burger King was good like that. If Burger King sells a million Impossible Burgers, how many cows DID NOT get eaten? I’d like someone to calculate that, because I call that major progress. Add to that the many other fast-food establishments that are jumping on board with fake meats and . . . wow! We are kicking ass! Would I rather all meat be “fake” meat? Hell, yes! But we now have a clearer path to that end than ever before.

Tofu. Yes . . . tofu. Do you know if you said the word “tofu” in 1982 people would snicker, if not burst out laughing at the most preposterous “food” on earth? It went like this . . . “Snicker, snicker . . . You’re a vegetarian? Snicker . . . what do you eat, tofuuuuu? Hahahahahahahahahahahaha!” Seriously. Tofu was a legitimate joke food. But two years earlier, in 1980, a newly vegetarian friend (who quickly lapsed) had handed me a booklet about how to cook tofu, and while I had politely taken it, I later passed it around as a “joke” book, much like some do with the Watchtower when it’s dropped off by proselytizing Jehovah’s Witnesses. Like really, you were gonna win me over with TOFU? Hahahahahaha! And the lion will lie down peaceably with the lamb HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! And now I buy my tofu at Walmart, where they regularly run out because TONS of people eat it, and if I say the word in public, NOBODY laughs. That’s serious progress! And if I can go from laughing at tofu in 1980 to eating it in 1982, well crap, anything is possible!

Non-dairy milk. Thirty-something years ago, I used to drive two and a half hours to the Brattleboro Coop in Vermont to pick up cases of parmalat soymilk. While I was there I also stocked up on organic granola, in case you didn’t think soymilk made me crunchy granola enough. Go look in the refrigerated case at any supermarket today . . . soymilk, almond milk, cashew milk, oat milk, coconut milk and every combination of the aforementioned. (Oh yeah, and dairy milk . . . whatever . . . there’s less of it being sold every single day) But wait . . . there’s more! This time of year we can even get vegan EGGNOG!!! Holy Cow (and I don’t say that lightly as I happen to think cows are pretty-darned sacred,) vegan life is getting pretty damned good!

NON-DAIRY CHEESE! And not the waxy, non-melting garbage they tried to pass off on us in the early 2000s. This stuff is the real deal, and it pairs well with chocolate, wines and PIZZA! Way back in the olden days we had to order our pizza with no cheese and then pay extra for veggie toppings as nobody would make substitutions. As if broccoli costs as much as cheese . . . sheesh! Vegans aren’t stupid, we know you were all raking us over the hot coals piled in the interiors of your brick ovens . . . laughing at us (Tofu! Hahahahahaha!) And yet, we persisted . . . and because of that, we now have dozens and dozens of varieties of non-dairy cheeses (those of you who say you would be vegan except you would miss the cheese . . . it’s a COP OUT! You can now have your cheese and EAT IT TOO! Thank you Universe, you are so very kind . . .)

Volume! Numbers! Visibility! Look around you. You know a vegan or two. You know a few more vegetarians, as well. You even know a handful of pescatarians (those that are “vegetarian” but eat fish.) You know people who participate in meatless Mondays. You even know people who aren’t vegetarians but who actually EAT TOFU ANYWAYS!!! Bill Clinton, famous for his forays into McDonald’s, IS VEGAN! In 1982, I was all alone, and here’s what’s even weirder by today’s standards . . . I assumed I would be all alone forever, going to restaurants and eating a side salad with vinegar and oil and a baked potato with no butter as my main meal for the rest of my days. Today, I actually have a choice of vegan restaurants should I find the time to get off the sanctuary and eat out! Hallelujah!

Is life perfect? Hell, no. It won’t be perfect until no animals suffer in factory farms, in slaughterhouses, in dog-fighting rings . . . as long as hens languish in battery cages, sows in gestation and farrowing crates, calves in veal crates, and oh, dear Goddess of the Universes, fur animals in their tiny, little hell-holes awaiting a terrifying and excruciating end . . . I could fill pages, but that’s not for today . . . today’s blog is not about what we haven’t yet accomplished, but rather, about how we are on our way, and the momentum is OURS and if all the varying factions of our movements would stop wasting time denigrating all of the other factions, would take those billions of hours of playing Negative Nellie keyboard warrior and instead focus on encouraging positive change, we could make progress that is pervasive, permanent and life-saving for animals and our struggling planet (details for another blog, but if you can’t take the suspense, Google “diet to save the planet.”) Being positive is just a suggestion, really . . . because few people actually care about my opinion, and plenty others think name-calling is the most effective way to sway opinion . . . but think about if every effort made for animals was progressive instead of negative . . . I swoon while merely contemplating the possibility . . .

Because real change is really possible.

And how do I know that, you ask? How’s this . . . I can’t remember the last time someone asked me from whence do I get my protein. 🙂

I mean, come on people! WE’VE GOT THIS!!!

Kathleen Schurman and her husband David are owned by the animals of Locket’s Meadow. They spend their days catering to about 150 of them , while trying to make a living in their spare time as their endeavor is mostly self-funded. While they are cool with being vegan, they prefer the more all-encompassing term of “compassionist” because it includes all living beings . . . even HUMANS!

The Paradox of Domesticated Animals

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or . . . Thinking outside the Happy Meal box

There are days when I kinda wish I couldn’t hear the animals. How simple life would be . . . so little responsibility . . . and then I head outside and spend some time with my “babies,” and I know why I was put here as the oddity that I am; I’m here to speak for the animals, who are desperately misunderstood. One group of humans believes animals should live in a separate universe, untouched by humans; another believes they are here for our use, either food or pleasure or something to gamble on . . . whatever . . . but these people exist completely free of any concern about how animals feel as they are here for our exploitation and somewhere in the Bible it says so (not!) And so on and so forth . . .

All animals are not created equal, and please don’t blow a gasket until I explain. Then . . . whatever . . . do what you must . . . (short break here to let a pig out the side door . . .)

OK, I’m back . . .

Wild animals are wild animals. Leave them alone. Give them enormous tracks of land (10 times what they have now, even though it means taking it away from the cattle!) and walk away. Their job is to keep their own balance and the balance of the planet and they’re damn good at it. If we gave them the opportunity and the space, they would save this planet from us, and then we should thank them by giving back even more land. OK, that rant is over.

Domesticated animals are an entirely different story. Humans created these animals and chose which qualities they should have. It’s interesting how we’ve bred animals to reflect the human qualities that we desire from them, such as courage, protectiveness, companionability.  In doing so, we removed most of their wild instincts (except, of course, for cats, who if they had opposable thumbs, would rule the world.) We intentionally left most of these animals without the ability to take care of themselves in the wild. In fact, they are almost completely vulnerable in the wild. We made them totally dependent upon us for food, protection, care . . . everything.

(BTW – someone recently told me that God’s plan for bull calves was that they do what bulls do, which is breed and then get slaughtered and eaten – it’s against His will to castrate, dehorn, or anything else aside from killing them and eating them. GOD HAS NO WILL AS FAR AS BULL CALVES ARE CONCERNED AS HE/SHE DIDN’T CREATE THEM – WE DID!!!!)

And so, if they are vulnerable and dependent upon adult humans for their survival (a cat just walked over and slapped me – again, cats are excluded) what should domesticated animals resemble to us?

How about . . . children? (I just heard your head explode all the way out here on the farm. . . sorry . . .) Let me ‘splain . . .

I have been told by a lot of extremist animal rights activists that farm animals should not be trained or even handled. They should be left to themselves to graze and romp and do what wild animals do. Nobody wants to hear about how they can’t– it’s dangerous to them and dangerous to humans. I even have an example for you! It is the venerable anomaly called THE PIG.

I love pigs – in fact, my favorite animal friend of all time was one named Ozzie Osboar. They are brilliant, beautiful, emotional, loyal and capable of tremendous love. However, if you go to the southern states, pigs that have escaped from farms have created their own huge herds. They grow to extreme sizes and therefore have no wild predators to keep their population in check. They raid properties and dumps for food and cause quite a bit of damage, and they have been known to attack and kill humans. They do so to feed and nurture their families, whom they love with a vengeance. Oh, and that old adage “strong as a bull” should be “strong as a pig.” Because of this, there are people who spend their days down south hunting and killing pigs. Why? Because they are a domesticated animal gone wild. And worse, they thrive in the wild to the detriment of native populations and suburban neighborhoods.

Are pigs dangerous? Well, no. If a pig is raised from a baby and taught manners and respect, he or she is an upstanding citizen and a loyal friend. Our pigs are taught to be gentle, they learn to sit before we give them their food buckets so no one gets slimed or accidentally injured. They come when they are called and they allow us to handle them when they need medication or treatment. They are domesticated animals and they must be taught the rules of behavior, just like children, if you are a decent parent. And then it’s our responsibility to take care of them for the rest of their lives (unlike human children, who, if you are worth your salt as a parent, will go off and do their own thing.)

Now, if pigs are too far off your radar screen, think about dogs. They are domesticated animals who, if they aren’t trained and are allowed to run wild, will gather into dangerous packs. Dogs must be trained, restrained, fenced, and constantly attended to (as well as loved, cuddled and spoiled!) An untrained dog is a dangerous dog, and far too many are destroyed because some humans couldn’t be bothered to properly care for them.

I live in the world of reality, and it’s a harsh place. Despite being regularly told I’m wrong, I know firsthand from my animals what they want, and that’s what I’m going to work with. So far, no one has given me any viable alternatives. What to do with more than 100,000 horses that go to slaughter each year? If I’m not allowed to save and train a few of them them to keep them safe and happy, the only option is death. What about bull calves? Same thing. Nobody can give me a real alternative that works in the reality that is THIS WORLD TODAY which is saturated with the billions of animals we have bred to the detriment of our planet, our health and frankly, our very Spirit, which has become immune to the suffering we have created. HOW IS SLAUGHTER THE ONLY VIABLE ALTERNATIVE EVEN TO PEOPLE WHO SAY THEY LOVE ANIMALS? AAAAAAAAAAAGH! (Yes, folks, that was the sound of my head exploding . . .)

What’s the ultimate solution? Well, it’s to stop breeding domesticated animals and let that entire experiment in agriculture go away. (BOOM! BANG! POP! Heads exploding everywhere!) But really, people . . . reality check. That won’t happen. And if domesticated animals are here to stay, we need to be responsible about them. Which would require an entire book, and because I have to go out and shovel manure, I can’t write one today.

There is, however, a short moral to this story . . . we have to stop judging domesticated animals in black and white terms, all or nothing. Do they want to be kept in horrific conditions and then be slaughtered for food? Hell no. Do they want to be pushed aside and left to their own devices? Nope – we genetically manipulated them to thrive in a human/animal bond and partnership. THEY ARE HAPPY WITH THAT! I have a pack of dogs at my feet that would be devastated if I sent them outside and told them to go back to nature; it’s just not their scene.

It’s time to forge new ground in the human/animal relationship. We have to start from scratch, consult with our animal friends to understand their needs and desires, and take it from there. It’s a brave, new world, but it’s not as difficult as it may seem . . . I mean, we’ve been doing it on Locket’s Meadow for 19 years.

It’s long past time to start thinking outside of the Happy Meal box and come up with solutions for the real world, to save the planet and to save our souls.

Kathleen Schurman and her husband, Poor David, are owned by the critters of Locket’s Meadow where they talk to the animals all day long, and the animals talk back. If you want to know more about Kathleen’s love affair with Ozzie Osboar, read “Ozzie’s Promise”, the third book in the Locket’s Meadow series. You, too, will fall madly in love with a pig.