A Poem, and Commentary, by Christine Othitis July 2-19, 1996 |
![]() |
On the cover of the paper this morning,
there was a picture of a horse, a chestnut tobiano,
the kind of horse I might like to own,
except instead of clipping this photo, as I usually do,
I let it slip silently into the blue box.
I can't be a party to this,
the dust rising as the horse plants it's feet in the dirt,
the hate in his eyes as he rises for air,
the long yellow teeth as he rages.
If only this photo could scream (and it does).
They laugh and tell me that it doesn't hurt,
that the bucking strap doesn't go where you think it goes,
yet this picture contradicts -
where the heavy piece of leather rounds the stifle,
where the hide turns from white to pink,
there it is, cinched tightly against his barrel.
It doesn't hurt, they tell me, yet it must,
in the same way when I watch American TV
and a man is hit in the groin with a football,
and as he thrashes and kicks, the audience
cheers at his misery.
If it did not hurt, the horse would not roll in the chute or
suspiciously watch the men on the rails.
If it did not hurt, the horse would come out trotting, not
bucking.
The twisted mask on the cowboy's face reminds me of a man
I saw once whacking his wife in the parking lot of Safeway.
Cursing, his hand came up and down, flailing, as his kids
screamed for him to stop.
The caption on that photograph haunts me all day.
A fun example of old time bronc riding.
Look at the horse, the whites of his eyes -
is he having
fun?
Remember the woman, the rings of black and blue -
was she having fun?
If those of you who can't, could imagine the fear
and the pain of the horse and the woman,
then you too might pick up
a phone or a pen or a sign and protest.
![]() |
![]() |
I was so bothered by the photograph that I couldn't get it out of my head and started making notes on the bus ride to work, where friends sympathized. Last year's Stampede claimed three horses,
two in the chucks and one in the rodeo.
The idea that rodeo is a sport is deceivingly false. In real sport, participants agree to the rules, time of play, and other protocols of their game. In a rodeo, there is only one willing participant,
and that is the rider, who is required to try to stay on for at least eight seconds. The horse has no say in the matter. He is pushed into the chute, alert of the heat, smell of sweat and cheering crowds.
What puzzles me even more is that people actually pay money to see animals being jerked off their feet, choked, spurred and frightened, figuring this is some part of The Old West. It's not. Bronc riding began as a way of taming wild horses. Cowboys who were especially skilled
at riding entered contests with other riders to see who was the best. This does not happen in the modern rodeo. The horse hardly ever becomes tame until it is retired and shown kindness and respect from someone. The idea is to make the horse hate all people; so that it bucks harder and higher. Rodeos stress out horses - mentally and physically. Years of pounding the dirt takes its toll on their legs.
When the horse can no longer buck, it is off to a farm or kill-buyer. A defensive argument used by rodeo supporters is that rodeos save horses from slaughterhouses, but this isn't really true either. Along the border of Alberta, there are ranches where it's buck or die for even tame saddle horses.
Unlike horse racing, where the horses are bred to race and generally want to race, rodeo horses are former pets, saddle horses, cowhorses, mixed stock and wild mustangs. Rodeo horses are not bred to buck, they are made too. In horse racing, the horse also gets most of the credit, and is a extremely pampered animal.
The title comes from a book by Carol J. Adams I was reading at the time called Neither Man Nor Beast. It is an intelligent and heavily researched book which explores the relationships between men, women, and animals. Adams comes to the conclusion that in our North American society, the female kind of any species is often treated poorly and unfairly (for example, sows chained in stalls so they don't roll over on their piglets).
The brutality both animals and women face is often similar in that they are both treated as inferiors, and modern mass media with its sexist and/or violent imagery unconsciously supporting violence towards animals and women.
I feel sorry too that this is taught in schools as part of our "heritage". When I was in Grade 4, I went to the Canadian Finals Rodeo in Edmonton. Beforehand, reams of colouring sheets and puzzles were
passed around the class. I still have some of them, of My Friend The Cowboy who has nothing better to do than bully animals.
I had misgivings, but everyone promised me that I would have a "fun" time. I was sick and miserable watching calves being tripped, and horses kicking. One calf died of a broken neck, and there was a certain morbidness to the way it was dragged out
of the ring by it's hind legs, as if, "Them's the breaks".
I hope people realize that rodeos are not "fun". Beautiful and intelligent companion animals such as horses do not deserve to be treated
in this manner, that the violence toward animals and women is very real and not something to be taken lightly.
"No horse should ever be exploited or used for human endeavors at the expense of its well-being." COMMENTARY
On July 2, 1996, I pulled the morning Calgary Sun out of the mailbox and was shocked and disturbed to find a full cover colour
photograph of a pinto horse going down hard on his haunches with the rider jerking around. There was something sick, sad and disgusting in
the way the horse looked, and the way his underside was shown with all to see where the bucking strap was going, and the caption proclaiming what "fun" the Calgary Stampede is.
© 1996,1997
Visit Christine Othitis's site (located in the Acropolis Section of Athens, a part of Geocities) and share your thoughts. She'd appreciate it.
-Editor, the Online Writer