A winter day in New York City is also a day for wearing buttons: one showing "FUR" with a diagonal line through it, and one about saving the carriage horses. (Who in his/her right mind needs a ride in a carriage drawn by a horse . . . in New York City . . . on a frigid January day? Beyond that, who ever needs such a ride?)
The furs were out there in force -- on women who would have been just as warm in layers and cloth coats. One woman at a museum looked to be wearing her big sister's fur coat, it was that voluminous and long. Another wore a high, rounded fur hat as she chatted with friends.
(My courage deserted me: I couldn't think of an effective way to talk to these fur-wearing women about what their garments cost the animals who originally wore the fur, without being screamed at or hit. So what does a coward do? she frowns, glowers, hisses inside . . .)
And the poor dear carriage horses. While their muffled-up drivers looked straight ahead, the horses made their way along the streets, looking to me like miserable slaves who had absolutely no escape till death -- a fate some of them have already experienced prematurely. What temperature does it take to let them stay off the streets for a day? Who looks out for the horses' welfare?
If I had $1 million -- or billion? -- I'd close down the cruel anachronism of "horse drawn cabs" and put all the horses now involuntarily involved out to pasture. I can picture them now, running free in green meadows.
Which prompts this question: what would you do first for animals if you had unlimited funds? What one thing would you do to make a positive difference?
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The furs were out there in force -- on women who would have been just as warm in layers and cloth coats. One woman at a museum looked to be wearing her big sister's fur coat, it was that voluminous and long. Another wore a high, rounded fur hat as she chatted with friends.
(My courage deserted me: I couldn't think of an effective way to talk to these fur-wearing women about what their garments cost the animals who originally wore the fur, without being screamed at or hit. So what does a coward do? she frowns, glowers, hisses inside . . .)
And the poor dear carriage horses. While their muffled-up drivers looked straight ahead, the horses made their way along the streets, looking to me like miserable slaves who had absolutely no escape till death -- a fate some of them have already experienced prematurely. What temperature does it take to let them stay off the streets for a day? Who looks out for the horses' welfare?
If I had $1 million -- or billion? -- I'd close down the cruel anachronism of "horse drawn cabs" and put all the horses now involuntarily involved out to pasture. I can picture them now, running free in green meadows.
Which prompts this question: what would you do first for animals if you had unlimited funds? What one thing would you do to make a positive difference?
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