Some Equine Inspiration - TBs Having Fun!

It's easy to forget that these are ex-racehorses, thoroughbreds, when they run like this and it's easier still to be reminded that thoroughbreds originally came from Arabians.

Halo the ex-racehorse having a blast!

Burlap here just makes me giggle.

Both horses are from CANTER, which is a networking system for finding racehorses new careers. Here in Canada, people can also adopt standardbred racehorses through the organization Greener Pastures.

This post might no seem like it, but it is most definitely inspiration for writing horses. :)

Also, did you know that there are hairless horses?

The Original Purpose Of: Horse Racing

So, this is an idea I just came up with approximately two seconds ago, but hopefully, it'll be a good idea for a series on the blog!

Horse racing is quite likely one of the oldest sports in the world; back before the ferarri was invented, Equus ferus caballus was the fastest thing that mankind had. It's likely that testosterone-charged men were showing off with their own speed long before they ever encountered four legged vehicles but when our ancestors saw the horse, they probably thought the following:

"Wow! That animal is fast! If I rode it I could get places faster!"

The problem here, as with any animal is that most animals don't domesticate themselves. I mean, cats did, but cats are sort of weird. I'm not exactly sure how horses were domesticated and it's likely that they started out as a source of food (sadly) but soon enough our ancestors realized that there was a far greater worth in its flight friend E. f. caballus. Eventually, after people had gotten over the macho-ism involved with 'HAHA look I rode the wild horse! Bet you can't do that!' and after people started breeding horses to be ridden (or to pull things first as the case may have been according to anthropology) instead of eaten, people started wondering who had the best horses and there was only really one way to find out:

Horse racing.

The thing is, back in the day when racing horses first became more than just a thing people did for fun amongst buddies, racing was really not about money or riches at all, but about finding out who had the best equine bloodlines to breed to. This, of course led to wealth as Sheikh #1 toted the fastest stallion which Sheikh #2 wanted to breed his prize mares to and Sheikh #1 wasn't about to let his precious stud horse get laid without some compensation, if he let it happen at all.

Horse racing still remains to be, at its heart, a game about deciding and finding out whose horses are the best of the best. The sport probably evolved from tiny local races to long distance 2,000 mile jaunts in Arabia to the sport we know today here in North America. The Arabian horse has without any question dominated horse racing as it has given rise to the thoroughbred, the quarterhorse and all other swift breeds that we know today. However, people seem to forget the serious purpose of racing and that once upon a time, our ancestors may have depended on these competitions to breed faster horses which could help them in their very survival. In a sense, competitions like horse racing are a way of replicating natural selection, since only the very strongest, fastest, most enduring animals get to breed - just like in nature. This artificial form of natural selection is what produced the domestic horses we see today and not just thoroughbreds, but also heavy draft horses and all around farm horses. On top of that, these concept of competing domestic animals has created our original working breeds of dogs - no, not the pathetic show dogs we see today - the border collies, the german shepherds and the hounds and the terriers who once had purposes far more important than that of being just 'house pets.'

The purpose of horse racing, that of finding the best survives, however, in modern day people have abused the power of these animals through want of money. A racehorse a hundred years ago could run for far longer than a mile; four mile races were not uncommon. Today's horses cannot equal that, but of course, today's horses are also ridden before they are ready, before the baby hairs have completely fallen from their tails.

In my series, real horse racing is preserved in Rimer's Escavian society. Horses are not raced for money, but for the right to be bred and they are raced over great distances over rough terrain and over obstacles - an Escavian horse race is much like an endurance race but crossed with a steeplechase. Horses have to be not only fast, but agile, surefooted and they must have lots of stamina, because Escavia's society demands that of its saddle horses. Horse racing is deadly serious again. Escavian Animal Husbandry Laws state that an animal must not be bred unless it has been proven in sanctioned competition to prove that it can provide for the purpose that it was bred for. There's no such thing as backyard breeding in Escavia. If your animal has not been proven and if you don't have a government issued permit, you can't breed anything.

This is the way that I think society should be; it would certainly cut down on the instances of overpopulation in domestic animals and if people had to take a course about proper breeding practices (such as why inbreeding/'linebreeding' should NEVER be done) before they could breed anything, there would be less suffering in the world off our beloved animals. There is a country in Europe, (I believe Sweden,) which has already put into place a law which states that all pet companion animals must be altered to be infertile unless they are for certified breeding.

If only this law was everywhere!

Hickstead

WHY isn't there a Hickstead Breyer? SERIOUSLY? Is it just because he's Canadian and Breyer only wants to make American horses or something? Bahhhhhh!

This needs to be fixed. Someday, I shall make a breyer into Hickstead.

FAVOURITE EVENTING HORSE EVER.

EBV3 Excerpt - Dream - Chapter 52 Start

Whenever I read parts of my manuscript now, I try to think of how I'd conceptualize them in my development art project. I just read a part before this where I thought I would show the change in season by a classic change in colour palette, from soft green to orange, to blue grey and in this, I think I would use very bold tones of red in green, like what I used in some of my older paintings. When I work with acrylics I often enjoy the use of bolder, harder colours than when I normally colour things, which I think is kind of interesting. (Of course that's partially because paint kind of infuriates me.) In any case, enjoy this excerpt from Emperor's Blood where we get to see some interaction between Ki and another character. Draft.


Summery fields stretched as far away as the horizon, rows upon rows of potatoes and squash roasting under a warm dry sun. Ki could taste the heat in the air and there was a divine odour of dry greenery that he had always liked, combined with the flavour of ripening apples. Horses grazed nearby in a paddock fenced with white washed boards, chestnut, sorrel and bay, express horses like Snip had been, fine boned but shaggy, small yet swift with feathering on their slender legs. Ki leaned back in the scratchy old grey wooden rocking chair on the veranda of the red painted farmhouse. It wasn’t his farm, the one he had grown up on, but it was comfortable and soothing and nobody was there but him. There was a scruffy black dog resting at his feet on top of an old scrap rug woven of tidbits of fabric and on top of the veranda railing there sat a ginger tabby cat that was washing itself. If Ki breathed in deep enough he could smell a lake nearby and the sand on the road that led to it beyond the orchard trees that shaded the property. In the yard a flock of little red chickens clucked under a fairytale blue sky that had been swirled with clouds.

Nobody there but him and his animals. Ki sighed heavily in relief. This place was paradise. If he never had to leave it he would be extremely happy.

“It’s not real you know.” said a voice from in front of the door. Ki lazily looked over, recognizing his friend the dragon.

“This place? Yeah. I know. It’s too good to be real.” said Ki, slowly rocking the chair, the motion soothing him. The world seemed real enough as the dog looked up at him with big soft brown eyes and wagged its tail. Ki stopped rocking to reach down and pet it and felt reassuringly fine black fur sweep against his fingertips. The dog put its head back down and moaned contentedly as the dragon came closer, its sharp claws clicking against the wood of the porch.

“You have a vivid imagination Vininiska.” said the dragon, sitting down and staring contemplatively at the dog. “Is that a dog? A real dog?”

“Yep.” said Ki, smiling sleepily at the paddock where the horses were and beginning to rock again. Everything was so green and lovely. There were white flowers planted near the pasture and one of the horses was straining to get at them through the fence. “That’s a real dog.”

“I’ve never seen a dog. They’re not something from here you know. We don’t have them.” said the dragon, twitching its tail as it peered at the cat. “And that, Vininiska, is the oddest looking cat that I have ever seen. I can’t help but disapprove of the colouring of it. Shouldn’t it be black? Or grey? Or white? Shouldn’t its fur be longer?”

“Nope. That’s a real cat.” said Ki fondly. “Not like your cats. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t listen. All he does is purr and ask for pets. He’s a good cat. A normal cat.”

“Doesn’t look normal at all to me.” said the dragon, peering at the horses. “Those horses are peculiar as well. What are those little red things? Food?”

“Chickens. They lay eggs. Nice animals.” said Ki. The dragon recoiled.

“You don’t eat them? That’s very strange Vininiska. Very strange.” said the dragon. Ki did not have the energy to glare at it.

“You’re much stranger than the chickens. I don’t even know who you are.” said Ki. “You just appeared one day. Who are you?”

The dragon seemed to grin at him. “Who am I…? What sort of question is that? We met a long time ago.”

“I don’t remember.” said Ki. “Do you know where Hunter is? There‘s nobody I can really ask besides you.”

“The not-dog? I know. Of course I know. I know everything - almost - didn’t you know that?” asked the dragon, quirking its head. Its lips did not move when it spoke; it simply held its mouth open.

“No.” said Ki, running a hand through his hair. In this dream, it was perfect hair, not short ticked drakoon hair that stood up impossibly, but longer, silkier hair like a human’s, like Hunter’s but as black as soot.

“Well. You’re very strange you know.” said the dragon. “Yes but… ah, yes. Hunter. He’s fine. He’s doing better now. For a while I was not sure if he would live, but he came through in the end. He’s actually managed to make himself quite happy, so I would not worry about him. He lives by a waterfall. The one I worry about is you… are you doing any better? It’s been almost four and a half months since you came home to us.”

Ki sat up and in the distance, his idyllic dream of a farm with no problems started chipping away, the details going first, the landscape, then the animals, then the chair Ki sat on, then the smells. The dragon remained, its yellow eyes and pink mouth stark against the colourless world of the dream. Ki had the strangest feeling that it was real, that unlike the farm of his imaginings the dragon was truly there, sitting there with him in his mind, touchable, reachable, like he could have met it in the real world and continued a discussion with it. He wasn’t dictating what it was saying or what it was doing. It had no smell, yet for some reason Ki did not expect it to have any smell. It was not really a creature that should have one.

“I suppose… I suppose I’m getting better.” said Ki hesitantly. “But… you know I don’t really know what better is. Better just feels different to me. Was I ever really healthy?”

“You were when you were born. You were very strong then.” said the dragon, as if it had been there.

“Well. I can run while holding my wings up now without falling over. My tail barely makes me trip at all anymore and I can outrun both of Kelveniska’s sketzine. I can almost write my name. Um. I suppose you don’t care about that.” said Ki.

“Not particularly, but I’m gladdened to hear that you are improving.” said the dragon sighing as it stood up. “I’m afraid I have to go prematurely Vininiska. Be good today. I’ll keep looking out for that human of yours if you concentrate getting ready for the war that’s coming.”

“Wait!” said Ki, standing up. “Why are you going? You’re the only person besides Dansen that I can talk to! What war? Please stay and tell me! Why do I have to get ready for war?”

“This land is always at war with somebody.” shrugged the dragon. “Hasn’t anybody told you that?”

“No!” yelped Ki. “I got deported here just so that I could be a soldier in some war?!

“No. You’re the one who’s going to make the war.” said the dragon, staring at him speculatively, pausing in mid step. “Well, I’d love to stay and talk to you longer, but you’re waking up. Goodbye for now Vininiska. Be good. Be ready.”

A Hero for Horses

Here's an amazing story about a man who wasn't about to give up when authorities told him no. This guy, Richard "Kudo" Kouto is a true modern hero, going the distance for animals being abused on dodgy farms in Florida. Read the awesomeness - we need more people like this guy in the world!

Even if I wasn't vegetarian (and I have been one my entire life, so not harming animals with my diet is more like free icing for me than anything) I would find the way animals are treated in slaughterhouses disgusting beyond belief. Horses though, hit hard for me, because they aren't like typical livestock animals. Some might argue, but those who would have probably never ridden a horse or been snuffled by one of these friendly animals. The difference between a horse and a chicken is that a chicken bred for slaughter knows that humans are awful. It knows that we are a predator and that if it can, it should escape us. Horses are different. They aren't bred for slaughter. They are bred to be our companions, our pets, our coworkers and our four-legged employees. Most people can say that they care about them. What really gets to me is that horses fit into the same category as cats and dogs - they are pets - nobody would ever consider eating a dog in North America, yet for some reason, there are those twisted minds who would consider eating a horse. Is it because they are herbivores and prey animals? Well, that same reason is what makes eating them sick. These are prey animals but more than that, these are prey animals which we teach to trust us. At least a meat cow has no love for us. Horses are taught to think of us as peculiar members of their families, their herds. So, would you kill your mother if you thought she looked tasty?

Probably not. You'd argue that it's different, because your mother is a human and your horse is a horse, but it isn't different. It all comes down to humans being selfish again and not recognizing that other species can be members of our family just as much as your brother or your father. I can see that my blog is pretty quickly becoming something of an animal rights blog, but I don't care. If I can, I'd like to open some eyes. Our species is tremendously stupid when it comes to animals and I'd like to correct that. Education is the cure.

Horses are more than just our family or our pets or our workers, who give us their labour in return for protection and food. Our relationship with them is one of symbiosis, as it is with all domestic animals. In return for their love and protection, we give dogs health care and food. In return for their love and protection from vermin, cats get protection from larger predators and food. In exchange for their draft services, we give horses food, healthcare and protection from danger. Why betray that symbiosis? Why forget what horses have done for us by eating them?

Horses, like dogs and cats, have given human kind more than we usually think about. Without the horse, our modern society would not exist at all. Horses brought us transportation, which brought us the world and knowledge exchange. You couldn't build a big ship without a horse to drag in the supplies if you lived in the old world. Horses have carried our dire messages, ran to war and to their deaths with us. They have protected us with their loyalty and have saved us when we were chased. Survival without them would not have been as possible in the days of our pioneer ancestors. Civilization would not have spread.

Maybe the spread of our civilization is a bad thing in the long run, but we still owe horses our respect as we owe it to all animals, whether they are domestic or not.

Personally, I think horses are sacred to us, as sacred as cats and dogs are. Contemporary religious people might argue that animals are not sacred at all, that they don't have souls, but such a proclamation is the same as Hitler's proclamation of a master race, of certain people being 'better' than others. No way. No human is better than any other human, though there are some who are dynamite like Richard Kouto, who have truly proved themselves as being better human beings than the rest of us. But no race is superior. Individuals can be through their powerful good deeds, but no race or species is superior. We are foolish to think that humanity is better. If we were, we'd be doing a much better job of regulating our own population and protecting the environment, but we aren't.

Buck up humans! Let's fight for our world!

If you need more reasons for why we shouldn't eat horses, read this. As it turns out, because they are our companions, they're often full of drugs. Do YOU want to eat drugged meat? NO.

On the subject of horses, here's a movie that promises to help open some eyes about all that they do for us and which opens the door to one of the greatest ways in which they sacrifice themselves working for us. Horses in war - you've seen horses charge in a multitude of movies, but here, finally, is the horse's perspective. What's it like to be a horse bearing some flailing idiot into the jaws of death? Personally, I'm quite excited to find out. Here comes an uncommon perspective from director Steven Spielberg. Here comes War Horse!