C
camerong
Guest
Thank you for sharing your perspective. I do think that makes sense. Of course, a vegan/vegetarian would say the different feeling between pets and food animals is merely a matter of convenience or cognitive dissonance–in other words, you want meat, and that is the only way to have meat without feeling bad about it. But I’ve been questioning that idea lately. That author I talked about above discusses life as being a cycle, and we should view it as such–a cycle includes death, and death should not be viewed as a negative thing, but an inevitable thing.No, it’s not an artificial sentiment. Not at all. My “pets” are my pets, but animals that I know are going to be food are not let all the way in my heart (if that makes sense). I kind of keep them at arm’s length, but that doesn’t mean I don’t treat them well. That means, I don’t name them “baby”, “honey”, “sweetheart”, etc. That means when it comes time to send them to the butcher, I can be at peace with myself that they didn’t grow up and live in jam-packed filthy conditions in misery. I saw a few documentaries on meat factories and felt not an ounce of regret at having “the bull calf” processed because he was treated well until the end. I actually visited an egg factory and I could smell it way before I found it on the road. It was gross.
I know this sounds stupid, but bear with me. Despite the criticism I’m sure to receive I’ll go ahead and share a bit of myself with you. My dogs are like my family. We can argue until we both turn blue and keel over, but they are. My milk cow, and my milk goats, are all “pets”, but they’re different than the dogs. I could never eat my milk cow, or my milk goats. But if I know an animal is going to be food, they don’t get all the way in me.
My bull calf had a big paddock. He was raised on his mother until he started chewing on her…then he was moved to a paddock across from her. He was still bottle fed. He had lots of grass and hay. He had clean water. He liked being talk to, and he loved the pats on the head and the scratches. But I never let him in like I let his mother (who is dear to me). It was kinda sad when he followed me into the trailer and got taken away, but it was time and I knew the time was coming. It’s just different. You look at them differently.
I was born and raised in a big city, so I know where you’re coming from. But somewhere along the way, I changed. My perspective changed because I’m well aware of hiding behind those cellophane packages in the store, far removed from the mistreatment and torture. If people don’t see it, they don’t care. And I’ve been told point-blank “I don’t care, I don’t want to know” by peoeple. So, I feel much worse caving in and buying chicken on sale at the store, and I feel more selfish for taking the easy way out by buying chicken pieces at the store, but I never feel bad about raising an animal on the farm for food because I know I did right by them. But real life sometimes gets in the way of our best intentions and we can’t always do what we wish. But I never feel bad about buying a steer from the farmer next door, I rather feel grateful that I had the opportunity to do so.
Does that make sense?
I’ve long thought that we could legitimately have leather if, for example, we simply let the cows die a natural death (or perhaps euthanasized them like we would pets when they became to sick or old), and then skinned them. Assuming the kind of farming operation you talk about, is that really any different?
I guess another concern I would have is to wonder how sustainable the humane farming operation is on the big term–in other words, small farms which pasture their animals works well producing small amounts of meat, but could the whole country (or world?) ever be fed by these kinds of operations? In other words, if we could never replace all of the world’s beef with humane, grass-fed beef, is eating meat on whole an inhumane and thus immoral practice?