On Neighbors Who Make Me Cry
It hasn’t been a good week for horses and me. First, a neighbor who moved away sent me the link to her latest Snapfish album, and in it is a handful of photos from the summer of her 2-year old on a horse who is chained–chained–to this contraption that’s a wheel with about a 7-foot radius. The 6 or 8 horses (I refuse to go back and look at the photos again) walk in circles all afternoon, with small children on their backs, under the sweltering sun of Atlanta. The horses look terrible, and all the little white kids and their slim white mommies in their Chanel sunglasses smile away, delighted by the opportunity to commune with nature.
Or something like that.
This neighbor has other vegan friends, and we were never really that close. I’m curious to hear (if I ever hear again) how or if they dealt with this recent batch of pictures. I responded, saying everyone looks well and happy and thrilled with their new home.
I did also write this:
Now, please, please take this in the loving spirit with which it was written:
In the future, please skip sending me photos of ponies chained to a wheel forced to walk in small circles all day with children on their backs. It is very, very upsetting for me to see that and think of the lives they must have.
Thank you.
Mary
Not surprisingly, I haven’t heard back, and I might not.
Next, yesterday was a neighbor’s 2-year old’s birthday party. It was 93 degrees at noon when a truck with a small trailer pulled up and that kind of trailer means one thing only: ponies. This particular neighbor is an adorable couple with two purebreds that never get walked but are loved, it seems. They have no idea I’m a vegan.
As soon as I walked over to the trailer with my camera, I knew I wasn’t going to be welcome. (If I went over to the horses or the kids, my motives would have been better camouflaged, I guess.) The trailer was a complete mess, filthy with peeled and peeling paint. One of the women dragging the ponies around said, "Great, the day someone takes a picture, my trailer looks like that!"
I approached one of the ponies and the woman walking him around turned to pose. I actually felt bad deceiving her, so I didn’t take the photo. Some investigator I am, eh?
I asked, "Do you think they like this?"
And she replied, "Look, they love it! They love horses!"
"Not the kids, the horses. Do you think they like this?"
At which point she called the other woman’s name and began pulling her pony away from me.
"Sure," she said as she rushed away, "they get treats and hugs all day."
If you only could’ve seen the bloodshot eyes and the drooping heads of the ponies, with no shade in sight, being yanked around by these two women. It was so upsetting. It was so hot and sticky that I had to come inside!
My neighbors weren’t around for any of this. I think by the time I arrived on the scene the kids were getting second and third rides. And I know the kids at the party were eating dead animals and wearing tiny leather shoes. But there’s something about being right there, in the presence of a living creature whose misery is palpable and entirely unnecessary, that nauseates me and makes me cry. I wish it weren’t true, but it is. And I’ve felt this for my entire life. I can feel it when an Animal Care & Control truck is anywhere near me when I’m driving.
This is why I write at Animal Person, every day. As more people awake to the injustice they are a party to and alter the way they live, the pain lessens.
Everyone’s pain.
Experiences like the ones you describe (and they happen everywhere – even in tiny Malta) make me come close to desperation. There is so much suffering and injustice that we can do nothing about.
The only thing that keeps me going is the positive hope that the little we do may at least make a difference, little as it may be.
Mary, thanks for a heartfelt message. I experienced a range of emotions as I read it, from sadness, to anger, to determination.
I applaud your letter to your neighbor, even if she didn't like it. This may not have anything to do with why you wrote, but it reminded me of my decision to speak for animals, even when I knew people wouldn't like it. I've celebrated Thanksgiving dinner with my closest relatives for years. To be pleasant, I never objected to looking at what's left of some poor turkey, being eaten over the course of dinner.
About three years ago, I decided I would no longer participate in a celebration based on killing an animal. I told my family, if they wanted to serve turkey, I would visit after dinner. They were upset, and accused me of putting animals before family. So I explained all the reasons for my decision– because animals have interests; because I feel sad about the turkey; because I oppose violence; because family celebrations shouldn't require killing; because when traditions are wrong, it's right to not follow them.
Of course, I didn't suggest they had to give up meat entirely, but they were offended anyway.
Lo and behold, last Thanksgiving my family cooked a vegan dinner, and we all enjoyed it. One relative is a vegetarian, and the others are thinking about it. So in the long run, I'm glad I spoke for my convictions.
Also Mary, the reaction of the woman with the ponies is revealing. On some level she must know she's abusing them. That's why she pulled the ponies away when you asked if she thought they liked it. It makes me sad too– and angry, but determined to speak for animals.
"The horses look terrible, and all the little white kids and their slim white mommies in their Chanel sunglasses smile away, delighted by the opportunity to commune with nature."
I'm curious as to the need for the gratuitous racial demagoguery, Mary. It does absolutely nothing to enhance your argument that these ponies aren't being treated very well.
I was merely painting the picture, GrizzlyBear.
I am slim and white. I don't have Chanel sunglasses, but I do have Prada ones.
Interesting that you made that connection, though.
Feeling the grief of another is the price we pay for being "sensitive" and "compassionate."
But there are only a very few people who can speak/write for these creatures whom have done us no harm, in such a wonderful way.
Mary, i can never thank you enough for helping me advocate for the nonhuman animals…you make it easier to help us express the good that is in all of us.
…also thanks for sharing with us the wonderful mind of 'Gillian'. It makes me optimistic every time i here there are youth that are "sensitive" and "compassionate", especially when they come to their "own conclusions" at such a young age.
*Shine On*, Bella 🙂