The Survival of Horses

Submission for the Leroy F. Aarons Scholarship

By Dallin Mello

 It was late March as fresh snow remained on the Rockies that loomed over John Beck’s property in Denver, Colorado.  “I’d normally work the horses today but the ground is too wet,” he said, as he tossed grain feed into two of the stalls. Behind a third, a horse stared wearily. Half mustang, half quarter-horse, with a red mane and a spot of white just between her eyes, she waited for Beck to feed her. “That’s Spider,” said Beck, “the one we saved from being slaughtered.”

Inside of Beck’s home hangs aged portraits of his family in Nebraska, in almost every photo there’s a horse. Many of them were rescued by his father and uncles, who would buy semi-truck loads of foals destined for the slaughterhouse and bring them to their ranch to be trained and sold for profit. 

For Beck though, the ability to save horses, and to be around them, was more than a way to make a living, it was a space of understanding his identity that he didn’t see reflected in his own community. 

“I would just, after school, go out and saddle out and go for a long ride to try and figure out if there were other people like me,” said Beck. On his rides amongst the rural Nebraskan landscape, Beck would find safety in his horses.  

Beck knew he was gay when he was 7 years old. It was 1954. Same-sex relationships were illegal and the American Psychiatric Association considered homosexuality a sociopathic personality disorder. For Beck, being gay was not only isolating, it was dangerous. 

Yet for Beck, horses served as a catalyst for understanding himself, providing companions free of judgement and harm. And while the horses in his life extended a kind of rescue, Beck returned the favor, devoting his life to saving them. 

A system has been created in the United States that disposes of horses when they are unable to be homed or ridden, thus losing much of their monetary value. They are then often sent to auction, where they may be purchased by “killer buyers.” 

Every year, over 100,000 horses from the United States are sent to slaughter. Although doing so on U.S. soil is illegal, the last plant closed in 2007, these horses are typically shipped to Canada and Mexico, where they are killed in EU-monitored processing plants, with their meat sent for consumption overseas. 

The killing of horses is a grueling process that is often tortuous to the animals and can result in minutes of suffering for the sentient beings. As a practice it erases the consideration for the horses’ life, turning them into a product to be consumed rather than learned from. 

As the sun begins to set, Beck grabs some apples from a sun-bleached box and heads to the pasture where his horses wait. All three peak their heads over the fence as Beck’s palm extends to their lips holding the fruit that vanishes quickly. 

“You know me, right?” he asks the horses as they eat, awaiting another apple. Spider, the rescued horse, watches Beck, unaware that her fate resided with the man that talks inquisitively to her. 

It was November of 2019 when Beck received a call from a friend in New Mexico, alerting him that there were three foals in Albuquerque on the verge of being sent away by the Sheriff’s office. Their owner was unable to afford feed for her horses and one had already been euthanized because of malnutrition. 

“I told the boys to load up the trailer and get out there to get them,” said Beck, who’d pay $300 to bring the foals back to his home, selling two of them to friends, and keeping the third, Spider. 

“She’s just like any mustang, they have their own minds,” said Beck. “But she’s smarter, probably smarter than me.” 

Beck is training Spider to be ridden and then eventually sold. He’s done this with hundreds of horses, learning the skills from his father, who did it with even more. 

“My dad broke over 10,000 horses,” said Beck, “that’s all he did back in Nebraska, and all the neighbors verified that.” 

At 74, Beck moves around his own horses as a master, reading their behavior. He can tell when they’re happy, frustrated, scared. He can pick up their hooves and trim their hair. He’s not afraid to get thrown off when riding, and can run barrels at one of the fastest times out of all his friends. 

Beck’s mastery extends to his ability to see the value in horses, one that is often lost across the United States, as horses of varying capabilities are killed. 

The USDA documented that 92.3 percent of horses sent to slaughter would have been able to live out a productive life. However, because of the inability to rehome horses once they are abandoned or sent to auction, they are forcibly sent to be killed.  

Although there are many equine rescue facilities across the United States, they fill up rapidly and are unable to meet the demand of horses needing homes. According to a survey done by The Unwanted Horse Coalition, 39% of rescue facilities are at their maximum capacity and another 30% are nearing capacity. 

At Journey With Equus, a horse sanctuary an hour south of Denver, they’ve seen an influx of horses in need of rescuing over the past three years. The sanctuary currently hosts 54 horses, all of which were either saved from being killed or surrendered by owners after no longer being able to care or feed them. 

“[We’re] focused on allowing horses to have a safe space to land to be able to heal, rehabilitate, get healthy physically, and sometimes emotionally healthy,” said Brandon Beston, a volunteer at Journey with Equus. “Some of them are sanctuary, meaning they’re going to just live out the rest of their lives in a safe, comfortable space. And some of them will want a purpose and something to do.” 

The horses are housed on sprawling, snow-capped hills, where the clouds seem to meet the ground. Some walk eagerly up to the fence as Beston walks around the property. Others are more weary or preoccupied with their feed. 

The animals at Journey With Equus are given a value that surpasses their ability to perform, one that contrasts the mainstream understanding of horses as items to be ridden, which often leads them to being slaughtered once they are no longer able to perform.

“Traditionally they’re a commodity, a tradable commodity, so when they’re not good for this investment anymore, they’re moved on,” described gestalt therapist Kerry Culhane. “But for me, that feels like there’s a break in the contact, because if we’re in contact with our animals and each other and water and what we eat, then we can’t really hurt those things.” 

Amongst the new purpose for rescued horses at Journey with Equus, one is to take part in equine gestalt therapy, where the horses help bring awareness to emotional blockages that may be affecting a patient's life. 

“We partner with the horses and they are naturally built to pick up on what’s going on with people,” said Culhane. “They’re really good at knowing when we’re congruent between head and heart… And they also balance energy, and help people to heal in that respect.” 

Culhane sheds a valuable light on the emotional awareness that horses are able to bring to humans. This practice was first understood in Ancient Greece where Orbasis of ancient Lydia documented the therapeutic value of working with horses in 600 B.C. To understand horses as healers is a concept that has existed for centuries. 

However, the ongoing pandemic has affected the horse industry heavily, specifically horse sanctuaries, such as Equus, that rely on donations to house and feed their horses. As unemployment rose across the United States, donations dwindled. A survey done by HSUS Equine Protection Program found that over 220 equine sanctuaries across the country had either seen their donations completely stop or drastically lessen by mid-March of last year. While many sanctuaries, such as Equus, have funding cushions that could sustain their function, approximately 30 sanctuaries said they’d run out of feed by mid summer. 

Community members across the Denver area have supported the work of Equus, fundraising for their relocation to a bigger ranch that they now own, and helping in the rescue of horses. John Beck has helped Journey With Equus move horses to their new property, loading up his trailer to come to their aid when needed. Their common goal is to see horses safely live out their lives, whether or not they can be ridden. 

With the impact of Covid still looming over horse sanctuaries, those who are able to keep their horses, even when they are unable to be ridden, serve important roles. 

John Beck parks his car in front of an aging barn, anxious to get inside. A horse with silvering hair, tied up to a stall, watches as Beck enters. 

“Duke!” Beck says as tears begin to flow from his eyes. He rapidly embraces Duke’s red mane, his arms wrapped around the animal that towers over him. A young girl named Griffin brushes another horse in the neighboring stall, but once she hears Beck, she comes out and pokes fun at the tears. 

“Crying already, old man?” she says to Beck, 

“No, just trying to get something to wash him with since you keep him so dirty,” Beck retorts. They laugh and embrace. There’s a sense of comfort in the barn, of old friends picking up where they last left it. 

Beck bought Duke in 1995 from a race track in Denver. According to Beck, he was fast, one of the fastest horses out there, but his owners had gone bankrupt and they had to get rid of him. So for $1000 Beck brought Duke home, and trained him to be a strong competitor in the local rodeos in which Beck competed. 

“He made me, I’m going to take a good guess, probably around $50,000,” said Beck, “you just couldn’t beat him.” 

But as Duke aged, and his hips began to give out after competing in too many rodeos, Beck decided to give him up. Horses reaching this stage in their life are usually sent to auction, and then shipped hundreds of miles away outside the country to their death. But Beck's love for Duke and his other horses led him to hand Duke over to Griffin, her father, and their ranch, where they treat him “like a little princess.” 

After spending an hour with Duke, Beck says his goodbye, never knowing if it’s the last time he’ll be able to visit his favorite horse. One more embrace, a few more tears, and a few more words to Duke: “it’s hard to leave you and a bunch of the others.” 

Beck doesn’t openly explain why he cares so much for horses. Perhaps it is because they helped him care for himself, the first to see him free of judgement during his childhood. But this care continues to guide his work in the equine world, as he advocates for horses to be rescued, to be given a chance.