During the Palisades Fire in Southern California in 2024, I unexpectedly found myself living on a ranch that graciously took in my five horses and welcomed me into a trailer for two weeks. The ranch specialized in cutting, a horse sport centered around separating a calf from the herd.
Watching the riders and horses work together, there was no question that it required remarkable skill. But I couldn't help but question the cost of that skill. Separating a calf from its herd is inherently stressful. Their instincts are built around remaining together, where safety is found in numbers.And once the calves reached market weight, they would be slaughtered and sold as "humane" meat at a local farmers market. It was spoken of with pride that these cows had spent their lives in open pastures rather than confined in industrial operations. The experience reminded me how much our moral compass depends on what we choose as our point of comparison.
One morning, I was able to spend time inside the pen with them. Slowly, they began to approach. Curious. Gentle. Open.
Our time together was cut short as they were herded away to be chased and restrained in the name of sport.
Sometimes they still cross my mind. The fact that every one of them has now been killed pierces my heart in a way I can't quite shake. There were friendships, social dynamics, distinct personalities, and relationships within the herd.
That is what I choose to carry with me, just as much as I carry the weight of knowing what each one ultimately faced.
As I wandered back toward the barn, I was drawn in by a curious group of beings. Sheep. One of the ewes had recently given birth. Some of the flock would remain as pets, while others would eventually be sold as companions or raised for meat.
The ram made it very clear that I was to keep my distance, gently but firmly holding me at arm's length until I eventually made a rather quick exit over the fence. I later learned that no one went into the pen because he was considered "dangerous." It seems I was either spared—or got out just in time.
He completely stole the show, and his portraits still make me laugh. He was something of a protector and a goofball all at once. I only wish I'd been able to spend more time with them. Their personalities hummed with eccentric individuality.
