My Big Fat Mouth

Well crap. I keep opening my big fat mouth and find myself in a pickle, again. How many times have I said “We are full?” Too many to count. I’ve been asked to take in younger horses but that’s not really the focus for Borderlands. Anything young will be here for 20+ years. If I take in a 20+ horse, he/she may only be here for a year or possibly a few years. I know some people think that old horses should be used and used and used. Then they dispose of them and don’t care where they end up after that. That’s where Borderlands steps in. The problem is, we are full and yet there are so many old warriors deserving a permanent retirement home.

Today, I opened my big fat mouth and voiced my concern for an old warrior. Because an old horse is too old for someone, they want to dump the responsibility on to someone else. That person in turn will use the horse and then dump it once they find no need or the horse doesn’t work for their purpose. Here in lies the problem. Where does this horse eventually end up? It’s a rhetorical question because we all know the final destination for many of these old warriors. Why do people think that it’s just the “old, skinny, and injured” that go to slaughter. The healthy go to slaughter too. But why do the skinny and old end up at slaughter?

Why do I do this to myself? I should not be looking at the ads? I should not look and see what horses are out there. I should not go to auctions and see the many faces. But I can’t. I have to look at the ads; I have to go to the auctions.

I know I’ve upset some by picking and choosing who comes to live at Borderlands. I wish that I could take them all; I wish that I could save them all. The young have a better chance of finding a place to land for a few years. It is the old horses who have bounced around, being used for one purpose or another that find themselves in need. So for those reading this where I have not taken in a young horse, I’m sorry. My heart lies with the old horses that deserve a soft place to land, a place to rest their weary hooves, and a place to finally call home.

One day perhaps I’ll finally learn to keep my big fat mouth shut.