Life with Forty Dogs. Joseph Robertia

we are.

      I don’t know what any of them looked like, but from the diatribes they sent, I could imagine their sour faces, and practically feel the heat of anger with which they hammered out their polemics on the keyboard. And to be honest, their e-mails initially stymied more than angered me.

      Most horses we hauled back to the kennel had died of old age, or, by their owners’ hand as a result of some geriatric condition that caused them to no longer have a pleasant quality of life. One or two had also been accidental deaths, such as a horse breaking its neck after running into a fence when something spooked it. We have never, and I mean ever, personally killed any of the horses.

      So it came as a complete shock to me when one morning while checking a social media site, I clicked on a link a friend sent me with the comment “WTF?!” underneath it. This brought me to a site offering “Texas Horse Hunting,” which to be clear was not advertising hunting by horseback, but actually hunting and killing horses with, as the site stated, “sticks, clubs, or crossbows.”