Reflections on horse slaughter

Today they slaughtered a horse named Silver. Like a stolen car, the parts were priced higher than the whole. I hope this is not a portent of things to come. The last time this happened to Silver, treasures disappeared.

In the 1970’s, the world suffered from double-digit inflation and interest rates soared to more than 20 percent. During this period, investors' seeking protection from the ravages of inflation sought refuge in gold and silver. Precious metal prices soared. The oil-billionaire Hunt brothers bungled attempt at cornering the silver market helped drive silver prices from $3 to $50 per ounce. Smelling an opportunity to get rich quick people were turning in old, prized family silverware, tea sets, trays, jewelry to be melted down into bars. Silver prices soared and treasures long forgotten were emptied from back cupboards and dresser drawers. Old silver, new money, the choice was easy for all except the artisans and Grandmother. Everyone was getting rich until the market caved in. All of a sudden, the prized ingots were worth less than $1 an ounce.

As the dust settled and coated the shimmering dreams of silver stoked wealth with the fine ash of reality, people moaned from the pain and loss. Irreplaceable treasures were gone, melted in the forge of human greed. Grandmother’s wedding silver, great aunt Martha’s tea service, chains, rings, baubles; all had pooled and dissipated in the furnace of desire never to be reformed again.

They slaughtered a horse named Silver today; an irreplaceable treasure is gone. I wonder if Grandmother will understand?


© Carol Chapman