13th of October
Dear friends. It took such a long time, but finally Henio is with us!
We bow down the waist. He is safe and it is only your merit! We would like to thank each and everyone of you separately, because each of you contributed to the fact that this wonderful horse can enjoy life without fear and uncertainty. Unfortunately, we cannot do this – that’s why we are sending one, collective, THANK YOU! Henio is now in quarantine, later a visit from a blacksmith and a veterinarian, and finally he can enjoy a carefree days at our asylum.
You get up in the morning. Coffee, shower. Or vice versa. Work. Dinner. Back at home. Favorite newspaper, play with kids or meet up with friends. Perhaps You take a deserved nap. Maybe a scroll through TV programs or casual surf online. That’s how it goes. Sunrise, sunset, winter, summer. Life goes on.
The mighty Henio is standing in the barn. chains jingle like your morning alarm clock. A handful of oats instead of coffee. Dirty from manure. There is no shower here. Horses don’t drink coffee. And certainly not the slaughter ones. Even if they drank, no one would give them this coffee. It’s not a hotel. behind the wall, a livestock trader’s house. A handful of hay. „Eat it!” They scream. Sunrise, sunset. Winter summer. Life goes on.
You have social security, a sick leave, you have someone to call, someone is thinking about you. You live. You count more gray hair, play with the kids, play scrabble, go for ice cream. Double with whipped cream, naturally. Then you read the book. You dye your gray hair. You look out the window, you see the world, all at your fingertips. Nowadays, they write about it in wise books that all You need is to really, really want.
Henio clangs his chain. Instead of having fun, he receives whip after whip. He lowers his great head, he cannot even lie down. He’s not calling anywhere. His legs hurt. Nobody gives social security to horses. Sickness does not apply. Nothing is due. He looks through the bars in the window at the distant world. Yours at hand, unavailable to him.
Henio has been clanging his chain for four years now. Nobody thinks about him. Why? Because no one even knows about Henio. He was born in the silence of this barn. Inside, for a few more weeks he will rattle his chain until they will take him away. They would drink their morning coffee, take a shower, and come to get him. Later, when its time for dessert and TV, Henio will be walking down a narrow, dark corridor, with more like him in front and behind. More like him, that no one thinks about.
When its time for ice cream, Henio, with one shot to the head, will be taken away from this world. World, he has waited to explore for so many years, full of hope, staring at it through the bars of his cell and rattling his chain.
Perhaps if, over your morning coffee, you could read about Henio in some newspaper … maybe if you saw Henio on TV, looking through the bars …
But you couldn’t see such an article. Because no one has ever written about him, and no one has taken the camera to his barn.
You can see him now though. He asks you to spare 5 minutes to think about him. Between coffee and shower. 5 minutes to decide. Will you send him down that narrow corridor for one last deadly shot? Or will You daze him with the wind in the mane, the endless pastures and the changing seasons?