It was another sunny day in one of the most popular tourist spots in
the United States.
The air had a light, fresh feeling to it; as it does sometimes when
summer is crossing into autumn and the trees are just beginning to
flutter their leaves to the ground.
As they did every morning, the kids hurried to finish their chores.
Horses were fed, cows were milked, eggs were gathered and breakfast was
shared together with Mom and Dad. Church had been the day before, and
some were still thinking about it. Forgiveness, compassion, living
responsibly and following your conscience ... It was a lot to master.
From the white buildings of their farms, the kids walked out their
gravel lanes past strong wooden fences they had painted as they do
whenever needed. Down the road they walked, dressed in their bright
shirts and blouses, black skirts and pants, carrying lunch boxes. It
was time for school and their teacher was waiting ....
By now, many of you know the rest of the story. You know a young man
pulled a truck up to the front door and came into the school with guns
as twenty-seven Amish children, aged six to fifteen, sat there with
their teacher and mothers who were visiting for the day.
You've heard it on the news. You've seen the pictures of what has
shaken the faith of people trying harder than anyone I know to be
strong and fair in this world.
These are my friends.
I grew up among them, and, to me, they aren't strange; they
aren't a curiosity. They are a treasure reassuring me that joy and
truth and honest feelings are still alive in a very troubling world.
I know there are some animal lovers who want to believe that
farmers don't have sensitive feelings for their dogs or cows or
horses ... for the many cats roaming their barns ... for the animals of
their fields and ponds. I am here to tell you that anyone who thinks
that just doesn't know farmers very well.
I'd love to use their names here, so you could get to know them
better. But, I can't do that, because they read the same publications
you do and they like their privacy. Are you surprised? You shouldn't
be. Farmers are just as interested as you are in the animals they
raise. They just raise a lot more than the rest of us. Because of that,
they see a lot more than we do, too. Maybe they get used to things that
happen in the animal world, and get a "thick skin" because of it.
But, if you have ever seen a bottle-fed, orphaned lamb nestled in a box
in the kitchen, or puppies cradled and fussed over by the kids, or
horses brushed and their manes trimmed because "Don't you think it
makes them feel nice?" ... Well, if you saw those things you would
know better.
And so, the kids went to school yesterday morning as they were
supposed to. The man pulled up to the door, and — without conscience,
forgiveness or compassion — he showed us what cruelty is all about.
There is a reason this column is called "On With The Show."
There is a reason why everything about animal husbandry — from birth,
to raising, to showing — is so important. That reason is
"continuity of life." And raising animals is the only hands-on
thing we can do that connects us to all kinds of life and the
phenomenal things we can know about ourselves and our potential by
doing so. We are far, far greater than we are ever taught or allowed to
believe. No matter what happens to us, or around us; no matter how
frightening or hopeless things appear to be, our animals do not see
these things. They continue with life no matter what, as if to say —
"Pick yourself up, my friend. You must take care of me. My babies are
coming and I need you to be there. We must get on with the show."
It's not easy for animal lovers to make sense of things that defy
our sensibilities. It's not easy because we're among the most
sensitive and caring people in the world. Yes, we can be "tough."
We can be hateful and competitive. But, when you chip away the tartar
from the teeth, there are some beautiful smiles underneath. Animal
husbandry — that's what it's called when you raise and take care
of animals — is the holy stewardship of life. It is the bringing
forth of life; not taking it away.
No matter what the experts say about it; no matter how they try to
explain the massacre in that little, one-room schoolhouse, we know it
isn't just one thing that sets off a killer. Uneasy as it makes us
feel, we know it takes pressure to disconnect someone from life, from
the very heart within themselves, and make them want to destroy the
world around them.
It's a simple question, not very complicated, but one can't help
but wonder: Does anyone strike out so viciously if they feel truly
loved and needed by a family, friends ... a dog?
As the leaves fall from autumn trees along a lonely road to an empty
schoolhouse in one of the most popular tourist spots in the United
States, the answer must wait until another sunny day.
Canada's Guide to Dogs