As far back as I can remember when I was growing up, my parents used to go horseback riding about the surrounding countryside. They had two big chestnut geldings; half-brothers, born on our farm to a mare that my father owned. My father would get up at 6:00 AM every weekday morning to go for a ride before he went to work (he was an architect). My mother, who did not work, rode with him only on weekends, when they went out after lunch, rather than before breakfast. All those years, always on those same two horses.
After about twenty five years, the two horses grew so old that they could no longer get about properly. My parents had them both loaded onto a van, trucked three hours to a livestock market (neither horse had ever been off the farm in his life), and auctioned off to the slaughterhouses (which bought horses to be made into canned dog food).
-Julie
