Found this, I really liked iy and figured many of yall would too.
I Am a Horse
Jim Gath is the founder and executive director of Tierra Madre Horse Sanctuary in Cave Creek, Ariz. Tierra Madre is the ďforever homeĒ to 34 previously abandoned, neglected, injured or abused horses.
You know me.
Weíve known each other since you were just a child.
Remember the pony rides at the Field Days? Remember Fury? And Flicka? And Silver? And Trigger? And Black Beauty? And me and my brothers and sisters at the Fair? And that little figurine of me that you kept on the shelf in your bedroom?
And do you remember when you got a little older and you came to ride me one day? How scared, but excited, you were when you first climbed up on my back? And how that fear went away when the two of us marched off? I knew you were a little scared. Thatís why I took such good care of you. We ended up having a ball that day, didnít we?
Now youíve gone and grown up and made a life for yourself. A lot has happened in your life since that day so many years ago. You moved or you got a job or you went to college or you raised a family or a hundred other things. But I know you remember me because I remember you.
Iím still here. And I miss you.
Weíve always had a great relationship, you and I, going back hundreds of generations. Our histories are inextricably tied to each other. And itís a bond that canít Ė or shouldnít Ė be broken.
My ancestors carried your ancestors from the big port cities in the East across mountains and plains and grasslands and deserts to places where they all ultimately settled down.
Your ancestors farmed the land and my ancestors pulled their plows and their wagons to market. As a team, your ancestors and mine built big cities. And together, they delivered all the goods and services to the people who made those cities their homes.
Together, our ancestors made this country what it is today. My ancestors were big and strong and worked hard for your ancestors. And, in return, they were well cared-for and fed and housed to the best of your ancestorsí ability.
They worked and lived together in war and in peace. In good times and in bad. Under the blazing sun and in blinding snowstorms. They were happy together, sad together, scared together and triumphant together.
They were brothers and sisters. And neither of them could thrive, let alone survive, without the other.
Maybe thatís why Mother Earth put us together in the first place.
Weíre still brothers and sisters. And when a member of a family has a problem, he or she turns to his brothers and sisters for help. And Iím turning to you now for your help.
All across this land, too many of our four-legged brothers and sisters are suffering. Some are starving. Some are in pain. Some donít have a home. Some are being slaughtered. Too many of us are in jeopardy.
And it pains me to tell you this, but much of this suffering is being caused by our two-legged brothers and sisters.
I donít know why that is Ė maybe itís ignorance; maybe itís indifference; maybe itís a loss of the sense of the history we share; and maybe Ė and I hate to say this Ė but maybe itís greed.
You see, too many of us are being born. Too many of us are being forsaken because weíve gotten old or injured. Too many of us are being ignored or forgotten or dismissed in favor of more material things. The reasons are as varied as the colors in the rainbow.
I just want you to know itís happening, and Iím scared.
And Iím reaching out to you from across the years and across the memories for your help. Donít worry ó Iím not asking you for much. Just a little.
Iím asking you to call your representatives in government and tell them to put and end to our slaughter.
Iím asking you to donate a little every month for food and care for our brothers and sisters who live in sanctuaries and rescues.
Iím asking you who have the wherewithal to refrain from breeding so many of us.
Iím asking you to volunteer your time for us once in a while.
Iím asking you to teach your children about us and give them the opportunity to experience the joy we shared so many years ago.
Iím asking you to treat our lives with the same love and respect with which weíve always treated yours. The way weíve always treated each other.
Iím asking you to, once again, be our brothers and our sisters in deed. To be a part of our lives in whatever way you see fit. In whatever way you can.
Iím asking you to make me proud, once again, to say:
I am a horse.