1 post tagged “circus”

I went to see the Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey's Greatest Show On Earth tonight with three friends. I'm writing a play/musical/play about Victorian Era circus freaks, and since the circus is in the city, we thought we'd check it out.

All in all, we had a good time.  But there were several times that I was not happy to be sitting in Madison Square Gardens. There were, in fact, times I felt ill.  I knew that animals were a part of the act, but somehow it never crossed my mind that I'd actually be seeing these creatures, that they were actually real.

It started with the horses.  My family is horse people. I grew up around horses.  Much of my childhood was spent at various barns and horse riding events because it's a huge part of who my sister is. I was six or seven the first time I rode a horse myself, but I was first exposed to these lovely creatures on a routine basis starting when I was three.  The barn my family called home for over a decade was not the best barn.

That in mind, I have never seen more depressed, unhappy horses in my life.  Even from 100 or so yards away, it was obvious.  When a horse is happy, their head is up, their ears are perked, there's an airiness to their gait.  These circus horses, of which there were at least a dozen plus six zebras, did not exhibit one of these traits.  They were severely head shy, which is probably why not a single rider was ever present.  The horses are probably too frightened and downtrodden to trust anyone to get close to them.

I was shocked at the unnecessary whipping and poking of these animals while in the ring.  I know what humane treatment of horses is.  I know how much forces is needed to get a horse to do something. I've used a crop before.  It's a tap. A light little nudge, if even that.  Not a slapping whip that is obviously hitting the animal, and is making such a racket that it echoes throughout the stadium.  That is abuse, and it's abuse witnessed by thousands at every performance.

Then came the big cats, mostly tigers.  The size of their cages weren't even attempted to be hidden.  They were rolled out right in them, and I did not get the impression these cats were only in them to be brought on stage.  These cages were barely tall enough to allow them to stand, and had just enough room to let them lie down. Barely.  And the fact that all of the cats were lying down, with some of them asleep, suggests that these meager pastures are their homes.

The cats were demoralized beyond recognition.  And their "trainer" yelled and shouted at these creatures. He berated them and hit them with sticks.  Yes, yes, tigers don't speak English, but all animals are sensitive to inflection and tone.  These cats were terrorized into behaving, if you could even call it that.  Every single member of my party reflected during intermission how we had desperately wanted these cats to turn on their keepers and extract revenge.  Their roars were defensive and fearful.

And then there were the Elephants.