Animals deserve autonomy, not resumes
I have a friend who is particularly good at sending me information, often photos, that bring me to my knees.
Kerry and I share a sensibility about animals, and sharing stories is a way for us to process grief together and also to keep us accountable, even if all we can do is bear witness and advocate for the rights of animals who live in our community and beyond.
This week, she sent me a Facebook post from a horse rescue. It was about Penelope, one of the cutest mini donkeys you’ve probably ever seen.
Adorable animals, by the way, are easy marks. Their cuteness does the marketing, and people who would never think of it as exploitation see only a delight.
The rescue where Penelope landed – for reasons unknown to us – sent her back out into the world, apparently adopted into servitude by a beer burro business a few towns over.
The rescue’s post shows the sweetest little big-eared girl loaded with baskets. The caption says Penelope was excellent in her training to be a beer burro. The rest is a promotion for the business where Penelope now lives and works – along with Tinkerbelle, a second mini donkey from the same rescue. I saw their photos on the company’s website. Is this a rescue donkey-to-work pipeline?
And what the hell is a beer burro? I may live in Joshua Tree, but I am not a hipster. Beer burros are also called beer donkeys, beverage burros and burro bartenders. They are trained and outfitted with custom saddlebags or baskets to carry drinks and food and party favors at events. They are like mobile beverage stations and interactive entertainment rolled into one. They, along with their handlers, are styled with flowers or themes to match the events, which are often weddings.
Historically, donkeys were used for transporting stuff – including beer – to remote places, like mining camps and logging sites. Great, because plundering the earth and using animals to carry our loads make us really thirsty for beer, too.
The beer burro trend draws on tradition, because of course it does. When are we going to step out of tradition and finally move on to better things?
People love this “Wild West” nostalgia. And it’s not just around here. There are beer burro businesses all over the country.
To recap, burros are adorable, memorable, photogenic and social-media ready. Who doesn’t want a tiny animal slave to serve them? Who doesn’t want to teach their children that animals should deliver cold sodas?
Like all sentient beings, burros deserve lives free from human‑imposed tasks.
Rescues should restore autonomy, not train their residents for a new line of work and ship them off as commodities.
I’m guilty here, too. I was guilty on many counts against animals before I became aware of myself, my actions, and the animals, and I stopped. And this is why I am writing about this stuff, friends. People have to become aware somehow.
Here’s my story. I adopted an exquisite horse named Zorro from a rescue. And speaking of nostalgia, I lived in a semi-famous cowboy “movie set” town built in the 1940s. Pioneertown, if you’ve heard of it.
I took Zorro home to ride, let’s be clear. The rescue knew he was going to be a riding horse; in fact, they encouraged it. And for about a year we scouted magnificent trails every day. Every weekend we rode up to the famous bar down the street and caught the outdoor show. I did tequila shots from the saddle. It was stupid.
It got stupider when I decided to make my horse work for money. I joked that Zorro needed to pay for his hay. It makes me terribly sad to think back on this, but it’s important to say.
I am ashamed about many parts of it.
I pulled on fancy turquoise leather boots and a matching prairie dress, wore a long wig under my cowboy hat. I gave Zorro a turquoise saddle blanket and halter, polished him up and went out to give pony rides to kids for $10 before the popular gunslinger show began every weekend on Mane Street.
I believed that I loved that horse, but that is not what you do to someone you love.
I am ashamed that I ate animals at that time. That I used leather and other animal products without thinking about it. That I used a rescued horse for riding. That I used a horse to make money – and not for the first time, either. You can read that story here.
It’s hard to shake off, and it’s why the post Kerry sent me hit so hard.
Kerry devotes her life to the farmed animals she brings into the safety of her sanctuary, and I believe in her philosophy. She told me that she works for her rescues; it’s not the other way around. She does training for enrichment and safety, but never for work.
Animals are not required to prove the value of their existence or pay their way. Because we breed them into being, we are responsible for them. I don’t think we should breed animals at all, but since we do, we must examine our relationships with them.
It’s hard, I get it. The burros are sooooooo cute. You think they would be bored just lounging around with their pals instead of being trailered to parties and working cocktail hour and petting zoo time, right? Their handlers are so hip and beautiful. Your guests will be amazed. What’s wrong with any of it?
Everything. Start with the premise that animals are entitled to their own lives, and none of it holds up.
