“If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn’t. And contrary wise, what is, it wouldn’t be. And what it wouldn’t be, it would. You see?” – The White Rabbit, Alice In Wonderland.

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The first thing you good people need to grasp if you wish to find your own truth in the great struggle over the future of animals in our world is that you are, generally speaking,  on your own. New York is a Wonderland all of it’s own, there is little there to guide you, the Queen has gathered her court, heads are rolling all over the place.  In the struggle in New York over the carriage horses, the White Rabbit had it right: Nothing is what it is, because everything would be what it isn’t.

Watching Maria, who is 5 feet and 2 inches tall and who, on her tiptoes comes up to the shoulder blade of Piper, a young draft horse at Blue-Star Equiculture yesterday, she cannot reach the horse’s back to brush her. Yet the two of them snuggled like a dog lover with a new puppy, and Piper stood still while Maria brushed her, talked to her, helped put a harness and bridle on her, and then rode her.

If you are sincerely trying to get at the truth about the carriage horses, you will be told – loudly and continuously – that horses like Piper do not belong in New York, that they are miserable working, that they are a danger to people, that you are not suited for city life, that they breathe toxic fumes all day and are overworked and lonely.

In my own journey through this story, and as a former journalist (The Washington Post, CBS News, The Boston Globe, The Philadelphia Inquirer, Rolling Stone and Wired Magazine),  the author of a dozen books about animals, and someone who has lived over the past two decades with cows, sheep, goats, dogs, donkeys, a horse, chickens, goats and barn cats, I quickly found myself in Wonderland. Nothing I was led to believe was true, I was in a world of nonsense, nothing could be what it was, because everything would be what it wasn’t. Or isn’t.  And contrary wise, what is, wouldn’t be.

The saddest thing about the carriage horses is this: without the help of the city government or a strong political leader, they are, in the long term, doomed. In New York City, life for individuals, small business and working-class people has been largely annihilated by real estate developers building condos, luxury apartment houses and office towers and developments. If the mayor wanted to fight for new and protected stables for them, he could surely get billionaire developers to agree in exchange for the property on which the stables sit. It happens all the time.

This mayor is committed to driving the horses from New York, and every day that passes  makes the likelihood of gargantuan real estate deals for the stables more likely, make their property more valuable. There are already rumors that one or two stable owners are thinking of selling for many millions of dollars, and the carriage owners and drivers say they no longer wish to pass their wondrous way of life onto their children, they do not wish them to go through what they are going through.

If you look at the modern history of New York, it is difficult to be optimistic about saving the historic character of businesses like the carriage trade. Perhaps the horses will be different. The best one can really hope for is that they are willing to stand and fight for a good long time, and then go out on their own terms, not at the hands of the shrill and angry people harassing them and spouting all kinds of ignorant things about their animals.

But still, facts and truth matter, they are having something of a renaissance, they are making themselves felt in New York City.

Poring through file after file of veterinary and historical and police and veterinary reports, I discovered that the horses have been content in New York for 300 years, they love to work, they are well-cared for and frequently rested from their very light work (for a big horse like Piper), their lungs are quite healthy and they are never alone, not for a minute in a day. If you hang around these horses, in New York or at places like Blue-Star, you quickly see they love to be with people, snuggle with them, play with them, ride and walk with them, work with them and for them.

I warn you seekers and pilgrims and animal lovers that everything about the carriage horse story in New York is upside down. The horses are abused, but they are not abused. The problem is not that they are abused, but that they do not belong in the city. Only big cars do. The horses are dangerous, but they have never caused the death of any human, not in 150 years. They must go, but the machines, which kill hundreds of people ever year must stay. The mayor will not visit the stables, but now he says he will, only he will not change his mind, no matter what he sees or hears.

“Sentence first…verdict afterwards.”  – The Queen, Alice In Wonderland.

In New York, at Blue-Star, you can see their ears up and tails down, the excitement in their ideas, their legs cocked,  the shine in their coats, hear their breathless whinnying, like a dog heading out to work and barking for joy. This is known to every person who loves or works with a working animal: sled dogs, donkeys, seeing-eye dogs, draft horses, border collies, search-and-rescue dogs, the  bomb sniffing dogs of Amtrak, the therapy dogs who heal the sick and comfort the afflicted. Their is a gleam in their eyes when they work, they come alive, it is the point of their existence.

This is not known in New York, a land of pets, not animals. A land of ideology, not expertise. In New Yorker, he who shouts the loudest and the longest generally wins the race.  But then there is this matter of the truth. Again and again, you will come upon the writings of people like Jared Diamond, perhaps the most famous and accomplished biologist in the world. He writes that the big horses are the most “domesticable” animals in the world, better suited than any other animal to be with people and in cities and urban areas.

Diamond knows what the mayor of New York is perhaps too busy or lazy to find out for himself: the horses have been in cities for thousands of years, it is the ancestral home of the big horses, where they have always lived and worked alongside human beings. That is why they are so good at it. They are not being forced into an alien environment, their work in New York is their native habitat.

They are gentle, he reports, they are especially tolerant of other species – people, dogs, birds, trucks and busses. As herd animals, they stay close to one another, and rarely run off or run far. They are biddable, among the most trainable animals in the world.  They are creatures of habit and tradition, what they do one day, they will do the next. They are prey animals, but their size also gives them strength and confidence, he reports. They love to work, are bred for it, and need work to be healthy and live long. They need the attention of humans, it anchors them.

There are many good people out there, I try to write to them and for them rather than the angry ones, the “left” and the “right” ones, they are seekers of truth and respecters of fact as well as opinion. I am telling you, good people, that when I read something like Jared Diamond’s writing about the big draft horses, I was shocked, I could hardly believe he was talking about the same animals I hear about in New York.  I thought of him again and again while I watched Maria with Piper. He was gentler and calmer than almost all of the dogs I know.

But this is the thing about the battle raging all over the country about the carriage horses. Wherever you go, you will find the White Rabbit, he sits in newspaper and television offices, he seems to be on every City Council, sometimes he runs for mayor and wins, he runs a thousand blogs, he is a fervent supporter of the rights of animals What it wouldn’t be, it would. Can’t you see?

Franklin from Seattle wrote me yesterday, he has been following my writings about the carriage horses and he thanked me for them, but said many of his friends believe the horses are sad in New York and yearn for the freedom of the wild. They don’t know who to believe. How can one determine the truth for themselves, he asked?

A good question, I replied, everyone must determine the truth for themselves, and many people have and many people are. You do not need to believe people who tell you to take their word for it, I will never tell you that.

I had to do this for myself, I recommend it to everyone else, it is out there, it is not that hard to find.  I wish there was a wise man or guru or journalist in New York I could refer Franklin to, but I said “you sir, are on your own, as I was, as I am. I’ll give you one clue. Believe nothing that you hear, read or see, trust what you see with your own eyes and uncover with your own skills and believe in your own heart.”

I have no doubt where you and your friends will end up.

The truth is there, and you will find it if you look. I can  see it in every photo of Piper and Maria.