Monthly Archives: August 2012
from the pages of Oregon’s Hermiston Herald
United Horseman’s President Wins No Friends in own Hometown
Hermiston City Manager Ed Brookshier told the City Council this week a proposed horse slaughtering plant would be “detrimental” for the town.
“I do not believe that project is anything but detrimental to the long term development and image of this community, and I believe it has very significant land use problems associated with it,” Brookshier said Monday.
The City Council approved a motion to authorize the city’s land use attorney, Mike Robinson, to investigate potential issues for the proposed site near the intersection of Westland Road and Interstate 84.
Brookshier said Robinson will prepare a report to bring back to the council for review within the next two months. The report should show how the potential horse slaughtering plant site would “stack up under Oregon land use law,” according to the city manager.
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As I sip my coffee in late August, I am aware of an element of sadness that creeps into my day. Everyday. I keep it at bay, and focus on what needs to be done today. I have the theory that if I live my days with kindness and compassion, somehow I will counter the effects of those who show none.
This sadness is born of events that have forever changed me. The loss of a child blossoming into womanhood, the folks I loved who have passed on before I was sure I really appreciated them and the like. And Caboodle Ranch.
I suppose it has been a long time since I was drawn into an injustice so deeply. Some said I was obsessed. It was a subject that my mind researched, but my heart never doubted was obscenely wrong. It took me back to the tender years when a cry of “not fair” meant someone would rectify the situation. My thoughts were dominated with finding a way to right this wrong thru Spring and then Summer.
The lack of response from those I reached out to that could help was crushing. The love and devotion of supporters of the ranch purely amazing! The behavior of those who thought things would “work out” and “Justice would be served” perhaps the most appalling of all…
Some things I have learned include the justice system without the scrutiny of the public is not so just. The misplaced confidence we put in an attorney (yes, David Collins you have taught me some lessons!). And that the small town mechanisms for those not in the click, can go horribly out of control.
Most of all I have learned that it is the responsibility of all of us to do our part or forever have the specter of injustice empowered against us all.
Thank you for all the days of love and security for the unwanted and unloved that you provided the kitties, Craig and Caboodle Ranch. Those days cannot be erased and will forever remain in the balance for the good. I love your hearts and your courage.
I know I will never be the same and with the sadness comes the gift of seeing what could be…:)
A big responsibility… but in our hearts we know the truth of it. The ache we feel when we do not or cannot stop abuse.
Find a friend or loved one and discuss the best way to approach the situation. Safety is always a consideration. Sometimes a note or phone call will alert you to the fact that someone needs help to care for their animal but did not know where to reach out. These are the best cases and a joy to assist and rectify. But what of those who seem to embrace the suffering of the creatures around them and will not let you help? These are the tough ones.
Many a night I have risked life and limb ( not to mention jail ) to bring food or water to creatures denied the basic comforts of life. Some I have released, knowing they had a chance to care for themselves or wander to my farm. Others I have called what passes for help in my neck of the woods and faced the bitter feelings of neighbors who do not understand cruelty is everyones business.
Courage and the belief that all creatures are equally deserving of a life without pain and fear or starvation will take you a long way down a shadowed road. But at the end, you will be home and met by the wags, licks, purrs, and whinnys you deserve!
I am an advocate. I believe it was who I was from the moment of the spark in my mothers womb. I do not give my credence to a genetic disposition for this position. Rather it is the product of the touch of the spiritual and a sense of the sentience of all life that may only be described in fables.
It is my belief that all are created thus. Perhaps through circumstances, or a balance that insures the definition between the day and night, we advocate for different designs and give ourselves over to the inborn desire willingly or unconsciously. The flame within us producing a never ending matrix of consequences.
The price for our advocacy defines our lives. The simple joy of retrieving an imperiled creature. offset by the wounded heart and body drifting away in our hands. The weary battle to contain the damage wrought by those who advocate designs destructive to the compulsions of our own.
To be at peace with my advocacy is to acknowledge and know myself. To question it or try to turn my course I become entangled in confusion that inveigles my spiritual and physical well being. Periods of existence in this weary state have occurred with some frequency in my life and have been the most non-productive and depressing of times. Questioning my direction can be a daily event, if only for a brief second or a weary moment. The spiritual drain of this is immediate and leaves its taint lingering, until I am forced to expel it to be in the moment and at peace.
The acceptance of these things has put to rest the constant background noise of trying to figure out what motivates those who perform deeds of cruelty and abuse. It leaves only the direction of healing and protecting the victimized . As it encompasses and encounters those with the same direction of heart, the song becomes more melodious and full.