An angry villager accosted me outside my house as I came through my front door. ‘You’re wrong about those horses,’ she called. By which she meant the 123 horses taken from a farm down the road by the RSPCA.
‘They were never fed!’ she shouted at me. ‘They were starved! We have been trying to help them for years!’
I sighed. ‘Just a moment, please,’ I said, putting my handbag in the car. I walked over to where she was standing. ‘Look, those horses were all fat if anything. I’ve got leaked photos of each one of them taken by vets in RSPCA custody days after seizure. They look perfectly fine. Would you like to come in and see the photos? Come on, I’ll show you.’
‘No!’ she screeched. ‘You’re wrong! They were being fattened up for meat! They were being live exported to France in the middle of the night!’
‘Sorry, can we just go back a bit?’ I said, as politely as I could.
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