A letter from the land of the Yahoos

With apologies to Jonathon Swift and thanks to Dr Hiltrud Strasser, DVM.

My dearest wife,

As you know, my journeys have exposed me to many strange and confusing things, none more so than the latest excursion arranged by my current host. He invited me to view some of the animals which this land prizes above all others. Such is the esteem in which some of these creatures are held, poems and songs are written about their beauty of form and nobility of spirit. I was very much taken with the idea of being able to see them, if only to help shed some light on the strange people amongst whom I find myself.

My host was a little nonplussed when I questioned him about these creatures' natural state. As you know, it is this which especially interests me. Although seemingly knowledgeable, he was more inclined to talk about the uses to which his countrymen and women put the animals, than to engage in a discourse on nature's arrangements. Rather than press him further, I asked if I might pursue the answers to my questions in his well-stocked library. I found several well-thumbed books and a collection of oddly bound little tomes that appeared never to have ever been opened. It was these little books which provided me with the most interesting perspective on these creatures, for it looked at them as creatures of nature, not of captivity.

These animals are large herbivores, some of which stand as high as a man at the shoulder and some which are not much larger than a wolfhound. In nature, they live in freely roaming herds and their instincts are finely tuned to respond instantly to, and to flee from, danger. Their play largely consists of practising various escape manoeuvres and bonding with their fellows. Their nomadic lifestyle allows them to graze a variety of plant life at will. This constant eating (16 or more hours a day) is necessary as they have a relatively small stomach. In addition to grasses, they will eat fruits and grains, as well as the foliage and bark of trees and shrubs. They are especially partial to oats, much like me, although I don’t imagine they sit down to a bowl of porridge every morning as I do. Like many creatures, they seem to know instinctively what they need to eat to stay healthy. Poisoning is rare amongst them in the wild, but in captivity they often eat things that harm them.

One of the books claimed that the effective operation of the animal's heart is aided by a complex circulatory system in each foot.  The animal's heart rate ranges from about 40 beats per minute to well over 200 and, as there are no muscles below the animals knee to help with the return of blood, it was easy to see how this expansion and contraction of the hoof capsule, which my little book called 'hoof mechanism', is so important. This remarkable system depends on movement - an understandable evolutionary development given the fact that, in nature, they spend most of their lives seeking out grazing, water and such.

Even more astonishing is the fact that, at a point in each stride as a given limb accepts full load and the bones of the digit are aligned in a certain way, the main arteries into the hoof are pinched closed. I can well understand the need for this mechanical restriction of blood flow into the hoof but I can see that it could have problems for the animal if, for some reason, that arrangement of the foot bones should become persistent. 

Considering the importance of their feet, it is not surprising that these have such remarkable properties. The more the animal moves, the faster its feet grow. My book told of a case in which one was ridden over 100 miles and at the end of this journey its feet had not worn down but had grown! But my host was to tell me of other stories in which the animal had been required to travel long distances and it had caused a terrible inflammation of the hooves that resulted in the animal's death.

Their feet fascinated me above all else. The last bone of the foot (equivalent to the last bone of our middle finger no less), is sometimes, and somewhat ominously, called the 'coffin bone'. It is unique in having a highly modified periosteum and a structure called corium, layers of highly vascular cells which produce both hard and soft horn, including the laminar tissue that binds the external hoof capsule to the bone. It may seem that the entire weight of this large, fast moving and powerful creature is suspended by this attachment but there is a myriad of other structures which also contribute. I imagine that if these are rendered useless for some reason, the resulting strain on this laminar arrangement, strong though it is, might cause problems.

The external hoof capsule is as hard as rock but still flexible enough to absorb concussive forces. It can withstand both extremely wet and arid conditions, as well as extremes of hot and cold. Unlike us poor humans, these animals do not suffer from frostbite or chilblains!

Being prey animals in nature, they have no clear day-night rhythm and they lie down only briefly. They are able to sleep standing up by means of an ingenious system which, in effect, enables them to balance their skeleton in order to fully relax and regenerate their muscles. Of course, if their feet are not healthy, or they are unable to stand squarely, this system cannot operate properly and the animal must use muscle power constantly to stay upright. The only way it can then fully restore its muscles is to lie down, which is not a good option for a prey animal and one whose efficient heart function is dependent upon movement. 

My little books also informed me that they cannot regurgitate food, which could be a nuisance should they ingest something that disagrees with them. Oddly enough they are able to breathe through their noses only. To further complicate things, like us, they cannot breathe and swallow at the same time.

When exerting themselves, to allow maximum intake and a smooth flow of air into their lungs, they extend their necks, widely flare their nostrils and close their mouths. Anything which causes them to break the seal that is thus created can cause them severe problems. This fact was of particular interest to me when I saw how these creatures are controlled when being ridden. More of that later.

The animals spend most of their time with their heads low but they must raise them in order to focus their eyes on distant objects, for their eyes are structurally different from ours. That may be the reason we seem to loom so large in their view.

They have adapted to a wide range of habitats - from hot desert to cold tundra. Not surprisingly, they have an extremely efficient thermo-regulation system. They have a thick skin and copious glands that secrete oils into the coat. They grow a thick winter coat, and are able to raise and lower the hairs on their coats to allow heat to escape, or to trap warm air against their skin. The long hair on their necks keeps water off and adds warmth in winter. Their long, highly mobile tails protect them from flies in summer and reduce heat loss from their backsides in winter.

So sensitive to touch are they, a fly landing on their skin can be flicked off with a twitch of a specific muscle. I remembered this fact later when I saw how roughly some people handled them. Their long whiskers play an important sensory role and their mobile, almost prehensile, nose and upper lip are critical for eating, signalling, smelling and mutual grooming. They have a complex social life and a strict hierarchy in which order is maintained by the dominant females. I can almost hear you say, ' just as it should be'!

In short my dear, these are fascinating creatures and, by the end of my studies, I was quite as enamoured of them as was my host.

You can imagine my surprise, not to say disappointment, when we arrived at the place where the animals are kept and found a collection of rather dismal buildings in which were housed some 40 or 50 of them, all isolated in small open pens or in individual stalls which have only one opening. I was told that they are fed a limited and unnatural diet three times a day, largely to suit their keepers' needs and routines. Consequently, they spend many hours, especially at night, without food. Their stalls are too small for the animals to do more than move a couple of paces in any direction, and the pens are little better. Although the bedding on which they stand is cleaned daily, they often stand for hours in their own excrement, of which there is a copious amount.

I wondered why they were not running free in the fields and I was told that these particular animals are turned out in a field for only a few hours a day and, at certain times of the year, hardly at all. Some, those which are considered to be more valuable because of some attribute or other, are often kept locked up for most of their lives, being allowed out on their own for limited times when the weather, ground and grazing conditions are considered suitable. 'Suitable' it seems is when there is no mud, the ground is not too hard and there is not too much grass. That seemed to me to leave very little of the year that was 'suitable'.

Mud is of particular concern to the handlers for when the animals are allowed to run free they invariably throw themselves on the ground and roll vigorously. This of course makes them dirty, which is probably both their intent and their delight.

For their keepers' convenience, and because it is considered to enhance their beauty, the animals have their winter coats fully or partly shaved off. Having had their natural protection removed, they are then dressed in specially made clothing to keep them warm. My host told me there is a huge industry that does nothing but manufacture such clothing and a host of other accoutrements. He informed me that some of the creatures wear full suits of clothes even in the summer, and even when inside. It quickly became apparent to me that the quality, variety and newness of such apparel said more about the owners' status and needs than the needs of the animal.

I mentioned to my host that one of the books I'd read said the creatures needed sunlight on their skin in order to metabolise essential vitamins. He dismissed that fact and said they are fed special supplements to offset any deficiencies arising from their diet and lifestyle. He then proudly announced that they are also dosed regularly with poisons to kill internal parasites to which they are especially prone because the restricted areas they graze invariably become infested with parasites which means the animals cannot avoid ingesting them. I was considerably bemused by these arrangements which seemed to me to create problems which then required solutions, which in turn created more problems. The vicious circles created by this nonsensical approach must cause much suffering and misery for so many of these poor creatures.

Much of what is done to these animals seems to be done out of ignorance, or when reason, common-sense and humanity is smothered by the heavy cloak of tradition.

For example, many of the creatures have their manes and their tails shortened and made thinner by pulling the hairs out by the roots. I can almost see you wince, my dear. I saw this done to a young male. To control his understandable response, which was to throw up his head and resist, they placed a metal implement around his sensitive upper lip and nose and tightened it until the blood supply was cut off. This did calm the creature, and his handler told me it released endorphins into the bloodstream, which is a natural calmative. I wondered how the keeper's nose would feel if gripped in a similar fashion. But that was not the least of it. They then cut off the poor creature’s sensory whiskers and trimmed out the protective hair inside his ears! Oil was applied to his feet (which I am sure must inhibit the natural flow of moisture), whilst a strong shampoo was used to rid his coats of its natural oils, and remove any stains occasioned by the creature behaving as nature intended him to.

You may be assured that by now I was in a state of some confusion. You may also imagine my feelings when some of the beasts were paraded for our amusement. Some were ridden - men and women sat upon their backs and had the creatures perform tricks. Some jumped over obstacles; others performed a variety of almost balletic movements. The riders controlled the animals by means of a metal rod in the creatures' mouths which they pulled upon with leather straps to make them stop or turn. They used a squeezing or kicking action with their legs to make them move forwards or sideways.

I could not, for the life of me, work out why some of the riders both kicked and pulled simultaneously. Nor, it seemed, could the poor animals, some of which looked terrified. All the animals had their mouths open and some fussed and chewed at the metal rod and frothed wildly at the mouth. My host assured me that this was considered a desirable thing because it indicated the horse was ‘soft’ in its mouth. I wanted to suggest that it was more an indication that he was 'soft' in the head but good manners made me hold my tongue. Instead, I asked about the need for a closed mouth and he looked at me as if he wished I would do the same with mine.

Some of the creatures moved about calmly and seemed almost happy. Others looked fearful and anxious. One, the young male I spoke of, threw himself around in a fury. I thought perhaps he was still objecting to the 'grooming' he had undergone previously.

On our way out of the place, I saw three creatures which had developed a pulmonary disorder triggered by dust from bedding or forage. The poor things were held in small fields away from the source of their distress, but they had very little grass and stood with their heads low. The signs of straining for breath were apparent in the stress lines on their sides. My question as to the role the ammonia in their stalls played in damaging their airways and precipitating this condition was not answered.

My little books had told me that many also suffer chronic disturbances of the digestive tract. Conditions, generically known as 'colic', are commonplace and quite often fatal. When I asked to what extent the unnatural feeding practices, isolation and so on contribute to this, again my question was avoided. I could sense that my guide was becoming impatient with me. He pointed out that the business provides employment for many people and considerable riches for some which in his view more than justified all that was done to the animals.

As we left, I looked around again at the creatures in their prisons. Some of them paced in their stalls, some lurched repetitively from one side to the other, and one chewed neurotically at the door, another at its clothing. One poor creature grasped its stall door with its teeth and repeatedly swallowed air. Some displayed fear or anger towards us when we approached, but most stood quietly, seemingly resigned to their fate. The female keeper who escorted us out showed me a large scar on her chin where one of her charges had lunged at her and almost bitten it off. You can be sure that made me glad I had stayed well away, but in truth, most of the animals I saw seemed to be surprisingly well disposed towards humans.

I wondered about the different reactions, why some seemed able to accept the confinement that is so alien to their nature, whilst others were clearly so damaged by it. There was no point in asking my host, for not only would he not know, he would not care. Perhaps it is to do with the way they are handled when young and their place in the hierarchy. Or maybe some still hear the call of the wild.

By this time I was quite ready to go home and retire to bed with a good book but my host had other ideas. I was taken to another place where, I was told, we would see the fastest of the creatures race each other.

I knew from my reading that the animals do not reach full physical maturity until 4 or 5 years of age or thereabouts, and I was astonished when I was told that these were all just 2 years old. When the youngsters were led around before the race, many of them danced and pranced, whilst others seemed quieter and more resigned. The more lively ones had a person leading them as well as a rider. One even had a metal chain passed around the sensitive tissue of his nose to keep him under control.

The race was quite uninspiring. The young animals all ran as fast as they could, looking as though they were being pursued by wolves. One poor thing fell and, when it got up, it could not put one foreleg to the ground. I asked what its fate would be if it was badly hurt. My host shook his head and pulled his forefinger across his throat.

Another odd thing I noticed, which will be of interest to you my dear, was that most of the riders were men. Most of the officials and the spectators were men and, such women as were present, seemed to be there as much to show off their finery, especially their hats, as for any interest in the racing.

But, my dear, I have yet to acquaint you with the strangest thing of all. I have kept this to the last because, of all the bizarre things to which these extraordinary animals are subjected, this is the most incomprehensible.

The creature’s remarkable hooves which, in nature, are hard wearing yet flexible and adapt to a vast range of conditions, in captivity become prone to excessive wear and bruising. To prevent this damage, the owners have metal ‘shoes’ nailed to the creatures’ feet. These ‘shoes’ are first heated to red hot to be shaped and are then placed, still glowing hot, upon the foot to assure a correct ‘fit’ before being nailed into position.  Of course, when the foot is off the ground the hoof capsule is not loaded and therefore is at its narrowest so I could not see how a good fit could possibly be achieved since surely the nailed-on shoe would prevent the hoof from functioning as nature intended.

Stranger still, there is a class of men whose sole (forgive the pun) job it is to go around and perform this strange act upon the many tens of thousands of these creatures the length and breadth of this land. I knew from my reading that this animal’s hoof is more than an object for the creature to walk upon, that it has a wide range of vital functions upon which the creature’s well-being depends. I could not see how nailing a rigid metal structure to an organic, flexing, expanding, blood-pumping one could do anything but harm. But, when I made this point to my host, he narrowed his eyes in a manner I had quite grown to dislike and muttered some banal response.

I could not help but ask the obvious: how is it that such a well-adapted creature in nature becomes so fragile in the hands of man?  I am sad to report my dear that my host was much disappointed in me and barely spoke a word the whole way home. I fear I may have outstayed my welcome and it is high time I left this place and came home to you and the children.

I am, as ever, your loving husband,

Gulliver.