Get off your high horse
November 21, 2007
Why don’t you consider giving Mr. Vagneur (“A horseman’s dying dream,” Nov. 17) a week off so that he can go and remember what it means to be a cowboy, or compassionate human being for that matter. It will give his “saddle sores” from riding around in a gas-guzzling pick-up truck a break and a well-needed time-out to get the weeds out of his arse.
What kind of human being would stand by and worry more about what kind of drivel he could write about a man’s last miserable days than to jump in and lend him a hand? I guess he must be a drugstore cowboy who just laments everything that is wrong with the world since Buffalo Bill bit the dust.
Mr. Vagneur, why didn’t you do what a real cowboy, a real Westerner would do, and haul that saddle-sore butt of yours out of your truck and pick those weeds out of those poor horses manes and tails? A pair of scissors or clippers could have made quick work of it, regardless of the final outcome of the horses.
Furthermore, I’m certain that there is a horse rescue or horse-placement operation that could help place the otherwise healthy, decent horses in good homes. I’m sure there are many people who would love to find a reasonably-priced, or free horse. I know of one and could connect you with other resources.
Wouldn’t it be kinder to tell the man who so loves his horses the truth about the market and help him ensure that his horses get the homes they deserve than to just write a lame, self-serving, whinny column that serves no one and makes you sound like you can’t be bothered to get down off your high horse to lend a neighbor a hand?
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Maybe you’re famous around here and some kind of sacred cow. I’m not. So, I guess I’m the one to tell you the Emperor Cowboy Has No Clothes to cover his saddle-sore arse that’s plain for all to see. Sure, I own a couple of horses, but I don’t pretend to be some throwback to a cowgirl, just a compassionate person who happens to love horses and people.