For the Love of Animals.

Last night we watched a documentary on HBO that had me sobbing. Not the quiet sobbing either. I was full on crying, hiccups and all. I was angry and sad and felt absolutely helpless.

I wish we could just snap our fingers and make things like this go away.

Anyone who knows me, knows I’m an animal lover. At one time in my life, I was a vegetarian. I do eat meat now. I admit. I actually ate veal for the first time in Rome. Don’t ask me why? I’ll probably blame it on the whole “When in Rome” theory. I can promise you I’ll never eat it again, because yes, veal is basically tortured baby cows…and the guilt has proven way too big to ever do it again. Look, I realize the whole food chain, I will continue to eat my steaks, my chicken, my fish, and so forth, but I have my limits. Call me a “fence rider” if you will.

I know that there are a lot of slaughterhouses out there that treat their animals in a humane way. (as oxymoronic as that sentence might seem) Most of the hunters here in Alaska, believe in the least amount of suffering of the animal. And they believe in using the entire animal to feed their family.

We are carnivores, it is the circle of life. Blah. Blah. Blah.

I also acknowlege and realize that animal research is necessary to help find cures for disease. However, I do not believe you need to torture an animal to see if the lipstick I’m going to buy will make my lips swell. I’d rather take that chance myself, thank you very much. Plus, I am willing and able-bodied to get myself to a doctor and make the choice to never buy the lipstick again. Animals can’t very well do that, now can they?

Having said all that. There is absolutely no excuse for being cruel to an animal. This includes, kicking the poor thing until it wets itself and submits, or going into shock because you “threw” it into a toxic flea dip in icy temperatures. This also includes shooting an animal multiple times because after cornering and badgering the poor thing, it finally bucks up and snaps at you, thus you deeming it a “bad animal.” This also includes letting an emaciated, obviously sick animal suffer instead of HUMANELY euthanizing it or getting it vet care.

I can accept that we all like our cheeseburgers and my medicine was probably tested on an animal so that they could benefit my life. I have to. Otherwise, I’d be one big huge hypocrite. But I’m certain that kicking, choking, punching, starving, and neglecting these animals has nothing to do with research and feeding the hungry.

I love dogs, I love cats. If I’m ever single again, I will never settle for a man who doesn’t. Lucky and Katie both sleep in the bed with us. They are well-loved and well-fed. I don’t care if you think that’s ridiculous. That’s my right. That’s my responsibility.

If you don’t like dogs, don’t own them, don’t work with them. I have friends who don’t like them. They do the right thing by not being sucked in by a cute puppy (only to realize those puppies grow up, pee on your carpet, puke on the bed, poop in your shoes, etc.), and simply don’t own them. I can completely respect that.

It makes me happy to own my animals. They have enhanced my life. Seen me through some rough patches. They are my family. I don’t care if people think I’m a little crazy for it. THOSE PEOPLE won’t be there to greet me at the door when I come home. THOSE PEOPLE won’t curl up against me at night, or hop up on the arm of the couch just to give me a friendly little nudge with their head. THOSE PEOPLE WILL judge me if I gain weight, get old, get ugly, or cut my hair. My animals won’t. They will give me unconditional love and joy always. They will never feel a kick, a punch, a choke, or an icy flea dip, in my care. That helps my tears go away. That gives me a damn good reason to sleep at night.

One Response

  1. Amy Says:

    Beagles like Roxy are used a lot in such testing :/

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