Beloved, Baton would like to thank you for saving his life! Baton came to us and we all fell in love with him immediately. There is a regular newcomer rutine in front of him – a blacksmith, a veterinarian, and we need to know his character. Then either a reservation or looking for an adoption house. You are .. as always amazing! Thank You!
The world is ending. Neither mine nor yours. Someone’s. Baton’s world is ending.
You probably don’t know him. Few people do, if only…
This is how it is with Batons. Just a handful of people that managed to ride on his back, who paid and walked on, probably to the waffle booth, and they probably don’t even remember his name today. Because who cares, this name is only for a moment .. It’s just a holiday entertainment between slot machines and the Parisian wheel. Another horse will be standing here in a year. And so on. Such a life.
OK. There was also his owner for who Baton had served, but if Baton is where he is, standing here, waiting to die, it didn’t work out with his owner. Baton stopped carrying riders, because the season has come to an end. Such reason is enough, look no further. “In September, another lockdown is coming. Who can afford to hold such a huge parasite? You must be from another planet” – explains the trader full of understanding for Baton’s former owner who sold him the horse.
The barn will be full of post-season Batons any day now. Anyway, a moment ago he took 20 such post-seasoners for slaughter, here in Poland. They were lucky … the next ones will go to Italy, thousands of kilometers, to die.
Because Baton’s world was like the blink of an eye. He appeared suddenly to suddenly disappear. First of all, Baton is an out-of-season horse. If you already understand what I mean ..
The trader is annoyed that Baton’s photos take so much time for us to take and nudges Baton with a stick to make him stand better. Baton’s eyes widen and it tries to jump back, but the rope is too short. “He has been hit with this stick so many times, and still didn’t get used to it yet …” trader sniches with laughter and hits the fence with the stick. “..it’s for discipline. Discipline has to be, you know”
We try to approach Baton to give him a candy and stroke his nostrils. But Baton stiffens with his eyes widening again, and leaps forward, almost knocking the trader over. It was a mistake .. the stick moves, and we jump to cover Baton, but after a while we suppress everything, because it may cost Baton immediate transport to slaughter.
The truth is that no one likes “the greens”, as traders commonly call us, activists. Believe me, we are not fanatics. We do not chain ourselves to trees for the media, we do not throw tons of tomatoes on anyone, we do not terrorize people who eat meat. We just want to do more for animals than it would have been done if we hadn’t done anything. And today, for Baton, we could even chain ourselves to the barn. If only that would give something. But it won’t do any good. It never does anything.
Yes, on the first day of school, when the bells in thousands of schools ring and students run into classrooms, Baton will climb up the gangplank in the light of the morning sun. The door will slam behind him and the engine will start to take Baton to place from where he will never come back. And when that day the last school bell rings and the children run home, Baton will probably be gone forever.