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Town-horses

In my youth, horse transport -a one-man job 
was still available for shorter journeys, a vanishing business; when the last horse-drawn carriage firm gave up, there was a picture in the newspaper of a man and a horse. 
I often wondered what happened to the dear old horses spending a long time outside shops waiting for their flat-beds to be fully loaded 
Looking at them was a study of longanimity, but 
I don't think horses have a sense of time, just hunger or thirst as day eased towards evening
Since no farmers wanted the elderly horses, they 
had tractors imported from America.
My mother said horses were slaughtered in hidden abattoirs since no one cared to admit they were eating horse flesh, made into salami and dog food.
At the local history museum, there are pictures of 
the horses that helped transport building materials, making the town into a city, supplying
the housewives with manure for the roses.

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