In the secret articles of the circus master, we find that young circus workers are taught that “working with horses is much more dangerous than working with tigers”.
A special story is the circus. In brief there is all that same special equipment that there is in sports, all that same stupidity and cruelty, but it is a secret world, one that is secret and closed. It is a world in which even the air, it seems, has a fundamentally different chemical composition than everywhere else.
The circus is for the fool, for the lout, the circus knows everything about itself and knows how to defend itself against unnecessary eyes and ears.
The defence has developed over the centuries.
Only the insiders, those who make up the circus, see the circus from within.
And do you know how they get horses into the pesade?
Well, with their fingers crossed they make the horse rear.
They hook her up with a long rope to the iron in the mouth. To the right or left ring of the bit, it isn’t important.
They extend the rope upwards, beneath the canopy, in the darkness, where they throw across a pulley. That pulley with which they safeguard the trapeze artist.
They draw the end of the rope, which has already has been passed through the pulley, into the arena in front of the horse or behind it.
Three to four circus workers who are somewhat huskier, all in gloves in order not to burn their hands, grab the rope.
The trainer makes a smacking sound with his lips, cracks his lunging whip and the trio in gloves yank the rope toward themselves, downwards jerking the horse across the big top’s pulley by the iron in her mouth until she has been lifted fully vertical.
From behind two more flog the horse on the back as a preventative measure in order that she not move backwards and not fall back.
The trainer thrashes her from the front so the horse does not even think of dropping down.
The horses mouth in such an undertaking usually is torn until it bleeds.
The most powerful horse lips do not survive the jerks and the blood covered eyes pop out of their sockets.
A common trainer joke afterwards (while laughing) “put her eyes back”.
And, I forgot when it all ends, they shove a carrot sliced into rings into the torn mouth of the trembling, wet horse.
The carrot, covered in blood, falls out at once and tumble around the arena.
Let this scene come to mind the next time you take your nephew to the circus!.