A 93-year old gets it! Why can't Congress?

Driving home from Ithaca yesterday and I was barely out of Ithaca when Elton John’s “Your Song” came on the radio. As I wound up, down and around the gently folded hills of Central New York, I reflected on how fitting that was. When we were all at IC, we often found ourselves at the Fall Creek House for liquid refreshments and played A104 on the jukebox every visit. A104 was (and may still be!) “Your Song.” So, here’s to JBH, who was an integral part of those evenings.

A bit further along on my trip I passed through a little wide spot in the road shortly before reaching I-88. At this intersection lives a man known to horse welfare advocates as a killer buyer, although he probably refers to himself by the more romantic title of horse trader. He buys inexpensive horses at the local auction (Unadilla) and gathers them up until he had a full stock trailer load. Then he drives them North up I-88, up I-87 and across the border into Canada, where slaughtering horses for human consumption is legal. When I passed his house both ways on this trip, there were no horses outside. However, on my trip back at Easter this year, I saw approximately 2 dozen very sad horses in his muddy, filthy paddock, all with white auction tags glued to their rumps. I’ve never seen a sadder sight in my life. And that I why I keep working to get Congress to pass the legislation that will outlaw the transport of horses to slaughter. I want people like this killer buyer to have to find another line of work. And I know that passage of the laws will not be the end. I know that after the laws are passed I will have to work even harder to educate law enforcement officials that there are laws and to get them to recognize the importance of enforcing those laws. I’m hoping for that cultural shift in my lifetime, the one that means all people value animals lives. Am I a dreamer? Yes!!

One of the true bright spots during my weekend was the few hours I spent Saturday evening with my friend Barb and her family, a group that includes Barb’s 93 year old father. He is a delight of a person who upon hearing of my interest in horse racing, told me stories of playing golf in Florida with a retired trainer who he said would bet on anything and everything. Later in the evening, he brought up racing again and asked why I was so interested. My answer was about my lifelong love of horses and that I just loved to watch the thoroughbreds run. Before I could get to the Barbaro part of my story he said to me “You know, I think they are beautiful, but the most beautiful was that one who won the Derby and then broke his leg in the next race. He was a beautiful horse.” 93 years old, not even a horse racing fan and he gets it! (And this man is a wonderful artist, so he knows “beautiful”!)