Sunday rant: A horse is a just a horse...

Last night, we celebrated my nephews 2nd birthday, family style. As always with family, there is the joy of togetherness, the stress of togetherness, and the conflict of opinions - rarely in the interest of lively debate.

Now most who know me know I am a passionate animal lover, and have been since I was young. I've had kittens born under my bed, puppies born in my closet. I have crossed roads from school to sit on the back of a horse during lunch, and I have walked countless miles for the sake of animals - to see them, help them, and heal them. I have rescue dogs, network to re-home healthy horses sold for meat (because it's easier to do this than be accountable).

I am a profound and deep believer in human rights, in every person's abilities, and in the value of life. All life. I believe life is something that should be respected, revered, and protected. It is also something, I believe, that should be managed humanely, compassionately, and lovingly.

And, I put my money, my time, and my convictions, where my mouth is. So to speak.

I am a strong advocate of the animal-human bond, which I believe, beyond a shadow of a doubt, does and will heal people, will help heal the planet.  and is something which, as the top of the food chain, we need to get right if we are going to survive.

So we are were discussing War Horse, a fantastic production, full of puppetry and magic. As most people know, War Horse brings to light the plight of the many animals who were casualties of World War 1.  As we discussed the play, I shared the following information:

"Did you know that, during the war, 1,000,000 horses went to France, and only 62,000 survived?"

Now to me, this is a pretty staggering statistic. Horses serve. They are non-partisan, and they don't chose to fight for a cause. In World War 1, we needed them. As transport for military personnel, supplies, as fighting partners, and for armaments.  938,000 horses died in man's service, without recognition, without appreciation. Today, dogs die today alongside troops in Afghanistan - those that survive are not valued enough for their service to even earn a flight home by the military. Instead, they are to be abandoned in Afghanistan because they are no longer of value. These horses, these dogs - they are not just "hanging out" waiting for a walk, a cuddle, or so we can "play around with ponies." They provide real, valuable service in man's honour, and in support of man's survival.

"Who cares how many horses died! How many people died?"

The answer to this, which I was not able to pull out of my hat, is this:
World War 1 saw the highest casualties of any war. Approximately 65 million peopled fought. 6.8 million military personnel died in action, another 3.2 million died of diseases like the Spanish Flu. Approximately another 7 million civilians died. Somewhere in the number of 20 million military personnel were wounded (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_War_I_casualties). While the actual numbers can likely be debated, a short answer would be a lot.

I care how many horses died. And to the USA, I'd like to add "man up and be accountable. Man or animal, bring all who serve home with respect and dignity."

It is incredibly sad that we kill each other for money, resources, for political or religious beliefs. As the average man, we chose to be the victims of a propaganda machine designed to make a few people or countries very wealthy.  It sucks that we kill each other. And it really sucks that we have to kill everything else too. We are the top of the food chain. Do we really believe it is acceptable to use other animals as grist in our political and monetary mills, to reap the benefits they provide, and then condone casually casting them aside when they are no longer useful or convenient, when they need, and to devalue their contribution in the process.

I think not.

Helping hearts help an old horse in need

It would be fair to say I'm a little horse obsessed. It's a feeling that lay dormant for a few years, when the kids were young. When they were old enough, I volunteered, then worked for CARD (Community Association for Riding for the Disabled), a therapeutic riding centre in Toronto. Working with horses as therapy animals, watching the difference they can make, re-ignited this obsession to the point where it became a virtual bonfire.

It was the beginning of the end. The powerful combination of working with horses and helping people spoke to my soul, and even though I no longer work at CARD, those two passions remain with me and strong.

Today, I surf the internet looking at OTTBs, rescue horses, and horses for sale. I pour over articles about bedding, footing, course building, tack, grooming, horsemanship, equine nutrition, naturopathy. I visit tack shops, and am slowly growing my supply of grooming tools, etc. Most importantly, I participate actively as a lobbyist for animal and equine rights, and as part of a pipeling dedicated to rescuing rehabilitatable horses from the kill pen (specifically OLEX, which is local to me), and rehoming them.

While I am acutely, painfully horse-less right now, participating actively and contributing to the wonderful world of horses is important to me. I was reminded of this when a call to action came through a Facebook page, Camelot Feed Lots. A lovely 30-year old chestnut mare at auction, bound for the kill pen.  I'll never meet this horse, but her pictures, the call to save her, and my fundamental and unwavering belief that no animal or person deserves to be discarded once their usefulness is past, were compelling enough for me to take a leap of faith and donate money to an organization I knew nothing about (without benefit of tax receipt) in the hopes that her life would be respected. For a horse, 30-years is a life well lived, and a life worth saving!

Thanks to the many people who also made a commitment to this horse's life, it was. The thank you note above is from the wonderful people at Helping Heart Equine Rescue. Amber is a really lovely old mare (such a cutie!).

The experience was a great reminder that participating in the world of horses does not necessarily have to mean ownership, and it does not have to cost a great deal of money. There are so many ways and means to be close to horses: advocating on an equine's behalf, supporting a local equine rescue, volunteering (at a therapeutic riding centre or in an equine-assisted therapy programme). Because of this horses, and Amber, will always have a special place in my heart. 

Reconciliation Chicken..

The story of the reconciliation chicken is the story of a boy, a girl, a mother, a daughter, and a car. And of course, the magical, curative properties of the chicken.
In a nutshell, the story goes something like this. Brother meets girl. Brother becomes infatuated with girl. Brother borrows mother's car to take girl away for a weekend. Brother and girl disappear for an extended period of time. Incommunicado. With car. Mother becomes annoyed and hungry. Housebound in the snow. MUST HAVE CAR! Enter daughter. Acrimonious and angry conversation ensues, in which mother vents at daughter because son is unavailable. Brother must be cast into outer darkness, where there is a wailing and a gnashing of teeth. Repeat. Repeat. Daughter must come immediately to fix.
At the 11th hour, brother re-appears with car and a large roaster in tow. Complete with fixin's. Chicken is roasted, and a reconciliation meal takes place between mother and prodigal in which all is forgiven. The clouds part, the sun shines, and all is right with the world.
After all, how can anyone ever be unhappy with, if you'll forgive the expression, a chicken in their teeth?

RECONCILIATION CHICKEN
Lg Roasting Chicken (organic is best for flavour and for soup)
4 lemons, halved
1/4 cup olive oil
I head garlic, separated into bulbs, skin on
1 clove garlic, diced or crushed
2 or 3 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
Small potatoes, or quartered yukon gold potatoes
Fresh rosemary
Pepper & Salt.
Preheat the oven to 450 degrees
Remove giblets etc (if any) from the chicken, and rinse thoroughly in cold water. Pat dry.
Take the juice from one lemon and squeeze into a bowl. Add the olive oil, and one crushed or diced garlic clove, pepper and salt. Mix and let sit.
Take the remaining lemons, and squeeze juice into the cavity of the chicken. Insert the lemons (once squeezed) into the cavity. Add several whole garlic cloves. Place the chicken in the roasting pan and, with a thin knife, slit the skin of the chicken in various strategic spots. Insert the garlic slivers. Rub the chicken all over with the rosemary, then with the lemon and olive oil mixture. Flip the chicken (so the breasts are down in the pan). Add potatoes, remaining whole garlic cloves, and any remaining lemon and olive oil.
Place the chicken in the oven, uncovered, for 30 minutes, basting once. Then, turn the oven down to 375 degrees and continue to roast until the chicken is done (about 20 minutes per pound, less 10 minutes of the total cooking time. Baste repeatedly. For the last 15 minutes or so, flip the chicken over to brown the skin on the breast.
When the chicken is done, remove from the oven and let sit for 15 minutes, covered. You can remove the potatoes and garlic and plate them (covered with tin foil), or let them sit until its time to serve.
Reconciliation chicken goes welI with chardonnay, but wine is not required for success. I am told that the preparation, while easy, can be tense, awkward and uncomfortable, but that by the time the chicken has roasted for about 30 minutes, the house begins to fill with the heady aroma of forgiveness. Conversation eases, and laughter can be heard. By the time the chicken comes out of the oven, the atmosphere is warm and thick, a soupy pastiche of forgiveness, love, and joy. All is forgotten, family is reconciled, and the moment of redemption is at hand.