I’m a writer, not a politician, it’s true. But I can’t just sit down and write of imaginary worlds as if the real world doesn’t exist. I also use my writing to stand up for the wild mustangs and burros, a cause dear to my heart, as spreading awareness of their story is the first step toward changing their circumstances.
I hail from the east coast, where many have no idea what’s happening to the wild horses of the west. And those who do, often feel the outrage I feel.
How can 1.7 million acres only support 500 to 900 wild horses? How is it not considered inhumane to stampede these animals, both the young, old and pregnant, for miles in the baking, desert heat, using low-flying helicopters to herd the terrified equines into overcrowded government holding pens, with some of these majestic animals later ending up at slaughter — sliced into steak for foreign dinner plates?
What about the 1971 Wild and Free-Roaming Horses and Burros Act? How can a law passed for these animals’ protection end up disregarded at every turn?
Finally, some good news for the horses. Off I go to hug my own wild mustang, saved from slaughter, with gratitude to the horse lovers and activists toiling on the front lines.
Thanks for all you do.