I got sick yesterday and had to go to sleep. I couldn’t eat or sleep or stand up. I spent the night downstairs, surrounded by the love of a caring person and three concerned dogs. I got up, went outside, took some photos, and tried to eat again.

I’m feeling better.

It feels like food poisoning to me – perhaps those clams I bought the other night. I went through the scores of messages I had received overnight. It seemed sweet to me to give that horse an apple. But this was never really a story about a horse; it is about the cultural Civil War between rural and urban, and suburban people in America.

It pops up every time I write about animals in any other way but cute talk and photos.

I woke up to more messages than I can remember receiving about what I now call Applegate, the controversy buzzing over my decision to give an apple to a horse standing by a fence on the edge of a vast pasture. He seemed lonely to me and friendly.

It was snowing this morning; I got up, went outside to take pictures, drank a lot of water, and slowly returned to life. I will get dressed soon, take pictures, blog, etc. Maria was sick too, but she is much better already.

I can’t wait to do it again, to see this horse and bring him an apple; I promise I will. I see this meant as much to others as it did to me.

I thank you for the many warm and generous messages of support I received while I slept.

The poet Robert Frost first put this idea into my head. Horses inspired him to write some beautiful poems. The horse I met had the same impact on me; I see many people who read the story. There is something about horses that is special like there is something about flowers that is special.

There is a lot of magic about horses. I felt some and am eager to share the feeling. I can’t do that only on YouTube.

“There is something about the outside of a horse that is good for the inside of a man,” said Winston Churchill. I know what he means now.

Seeing horses only as crippled and fragile creatures who must be isolated and hidden takes the magic out of it for me. Some need special care, and most dont. It’s not hard for someone who lives in the country (and is often around horses)  to know the difference.

People whose view of the world is shaped only by what happens in their homes or what they see online are blind to the lives of others. They live in tiny bubbles and lose the ability to stand in other people’s shoes or empathize with them.

I should mention that I heard from the farmer who owns the horse last night while I was sleeping, and he e-mailed me to thank me for giving his horse an apple.

I won’t reveal his name because I don’t want the righteous legions of haughty canine busybodies to descend on him.

And how sad is this, when a person can’t do such a simple thing as give an apple to a horse without suffering the condemnation of distant strangers who have never even spoken to him, but who knows with complete certainty what he should be doing? What kind of idea about freedom is this?  What kind of privacy? Poor Thomas Paine spinning in his grave.

If people wonder why there is a Donald Trump or a Ron DeSantis or Marjorie Taylor-Greene, tell them this story, it helps to explain why.

The horse was rescued from an auction/slaughterhouse in Kentucky, a cousin of the farmer bought him and asked if he might have a home on this farm.

The farmer was happy to take him in and used him for light work around the farm – hauling hay and firewood instead of using a tractor.

He is a friendly horse used to people giving him some treats, and the people around here often stop by to give him an apple, mint cookie, or carrot. The farmer was stunned that people who claim to love horses would object. “What is it with this country today?” he asked. “Does everyone have to feed their horses the way they do?”

As I suspected, the farmer doesn’t buy or take in horses with special needs. “I don’t have the money for that,” he said. That did not occur to anyone who complained to me, outraged by my supposed ignorance and recklessness.

There it was, the great American Divide. Two very different ways of looking at the world, nobody talking or listening to or understanding anyone else. It happens when I put a dog down, it happens when I shoot a sheep, and now, it happens when I give an apple to a friendly horse. It occurs when people who no longer live in nature or around the realities of animal life can only see them as pitiful and needy creatures.

We were founded as a country where people who lived within the law had the right to make their own decisions and live with freedom and without the judgments of others.

Our new technology has changed that.

People hiding behind their computer screens feel free to tell people they know nothing about how to live and what to do. This new divide is tearing the country apart. That is why I write about it when I can. Sometimes I think minding other people’s business ought to be illegal.

I’ve lived around horses for years; we even had a couple. I often carry some carrots or apples around. I know that horses who live on vast farms with lots of trees do not have special needs, and every horse doesn’t have to like a fancy show or racing horse with stomach troubles.

This is now a familiar ritual for me. It happens when we put a horse down. It happened when we put a donkey down. It happened when I shock a sick and suffering sheep. It happened when I euthanized a dog who drew blood from a child’s throat. We are now a nation of victims with epidemic sensitivities. We’ve gone too far.

People often ask me why I listen to people who send me messages like this, and my reply is always the same. Because the freedom to think and write freely is sacred to me, I will always fight for it. What meaning does it have if I won’t dare to speak up for it because I get a bunch of dumb and often nasty e-mails? I’m no longer certain which form of tyranny to fight, the one on the left, or the one on the right.

This is America in 2023, and I won’t hide from it or deny it.

I’m not the ostrich-in-the-sand type. I have learned to speak up for myself; it took me most of my life to do that. If we all decide not to take risks, tick people off, or share criticism,  there is no hope for free speech and original thought.

I loved looking into this horse’s eyes; it took me to a place I had never been. The apple was a minimal price to pay. I’ll see him today if I keep feeling better and can hold some food down.