KLUSKA and KAJETAN

Update 10/12/2021
Kluska and Kajetan saved!

Thank you with our my hearts! Kluska and Kajetan are now safe and in no danger! Only quarantine, visits of a veterinarian and a blacksmith and little Kajetan will be able to fully enjoy the charms of winter. On behalf of Kluska and Kajetan, thank you!

 

 

We met mother Kluska that November evening in a commercial cowshed, in a village where newspapers and television did not come to help. A cold, gusty wind led us to the very gate, nonchalantly throwing the last autumn leaves in our direction. We passed the concrete threshold, behind which, hidden in the darkness, a tragedy greater than the others awaited us. Because the tragedy of the mother and her son. As you can probably guess, such things like depths and darkness .. People like to hide them there from the world. Because they can. This is allowed by law.

The mother’s pleading gaze, hunched over by her child, caught us right from the entrance and it wouldn’t let go. Those big, black eyes that look deep into your soul no matter how strong you try to protect it. It is the suffering that fills Kluska’s eyes that breaks your heart. In this silence, you can almost hear thousands of untold stories of little ponies that served faithfully until the end, until the butcher’s knife came down. You’re standing there and you don’t know what to say. And even if you knew, your words would be useless here. Money is needed here. Because life is bought for money here. Whithout money there is no life.

Kluska arrived here just a few days ahead of us. She gave birth to Kajetan in a different barn and with his birth there was suddenly no room for her. The host decided that he would buy a new pony in the spring as a decoration. Because with the onset of winter and holidays, horse prices soar up. This is a good reason to sell. Anyway, everyone is good here. Apart from that no one explains anything to anyone. Each person grabs their own few hundred zlotys, until one day the pony reaches its best price – then they finally unfasten a thick rope and put a rope halter on the pony’s head, in which the greatest pony fear is swirling, that death must hurt. Then the pony finally sees the sun that has not been seen for a long time, and then the last time the wind tugs at his mane. And that day he climbs a steep ladder to the very top. Then, it walks on shaky, short legs down a narrow corridor in her rope halter, her head full of fear. And then one blow takes everything from her, and there is silence. The last remnants of the wind tangled there fly away from the thick pony mane, all fear and pain fly away. And although they say that there are endless green pastures beyond the Rainbow Bridge, none of us have ever been there. What if there is still nothing left?

Kluska glares at us and steps back noticing the trader with a whip in his hands. A whip that always brings everyone upright here. And today he will only hit Kluska, because others have left long ago to join the ranks of those who never come back. She straightens like a string and a wave of terror floods her eyes. The merchant aims a few blows of the whip at the wall next to her. But that’s enough. Kluska is finally posing. She poses for a photo that could save her life. She would like to ask for a life for Kajetan. But maybe not even that much. The horses suffer in silence. But it is probably not the silence that the wise meant when they called it gold …

The law allows mothers to be slaughtered with their children. Yes, I know these are horses. But what’s the difference really? It’s just a species difference. The level of suffering and understanding is no different. Horses going to slaughter feel unimaginable fear, chased to death through narrow corridors. In the slaughterhouses, behind thick walls, Dante’s scenes take place that will never see the light of day. It was about these walls that Paul McCartney said that if the slaughter walls had glass walls, we would all be vegetarians. And yes, I know we can’t help everyone.

 

 

Today I have Kluska and Kajetan in my lens. Today we can only protect them together from what is inevitable for millions of horses around the world. And it’s not even about death itself, because one day death will dance with each of us, it does not divide into species. But it’s about brutality in inflicting it. And about the enormity of the suffering these animals feel before they are slaughtered. Because they are usually treated like a piece of meat from the beginning. And not like living, sentient beings.

I brush the thick mane from mother Kluska’s forehead. I look again at her large, coal-dark eyes. Kajetan invariably cuddled up to his mother, he hid all his fear and the whole world of children here. If only she could save him. If she could give her life for him … but she can’t. Nothing can. He can only go with him when their day comes. Rhythmically, hoof to hoof, push him with nostrils. And take the pain of watching them kill him. That he would not be alone for a second, if the first one was dealt the last blow.

Only your gesture can change their fate. Every 5 zlotys counts. So as much as a bar or coffee at the station. Multiplied by the quantity, these amounts save lives. And then? And then you can come to us and stroke their wet nostrils and see the immeasurable gratitude in their eyes. Because that’s the only thing they can repay you with. Will you help anyway?

 

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Donation Total: $5.00