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April 06, 2006

Pro-Hunting Animal Lover

I’m an animal lover. I always have been. When I was a kid and my brother and his friends were doing what lots of little boys do – pulling legs off spiders, doing experiments on frogs, and smashing ant hills – I always protested loudly. I would carefully pick bugs up and carry them outside the house, and I always got upset when people were unnecessarily harsh with animals, small or large. I’ve endured many a jeer for it through the years and it placed one of many wedges between me and my poor father, whom I never forgave for pulling the heads of my pet duck and my pet rooster because they couldn’t get along with each other.

Recently I learned about the lack of animal protection laws for the Chinese fur industry. I’m not talking about the Chinese trade in dog and cat fur – believe it or not, I am no more bothered by dog and cat fur than I am any other fur. I’m opposed to the poor treatment these animals endure while being grown like a mindless crop and the horrible ways they are killed – including being skinned alive. I didn’t believe it at first, either, until I saw a video of it. It is the stuff of nightmares and I wish I’d never been curious enough to find out if it really was true.

What bothers me is the suffering. I just cannot stomach it.

I actually ran across the fur thing one day when I was trying to find out whether the free range eggs I was spending a dollar a dozen more to buy (much to the dismay of my husband) because I felt sorry for chickens were actually free range. They aren’t.

I haven’t ever knowingly eaten veal because of the way the poor calves are raised in conditions that are incredibly unnatural for what would normally be a happy, sociable, vivacious little animal. I get really angry about little pens and cages, solitude, neglect, abuse, and muddy, cruddy environments. Over the years, my incessant curiosity has led me on a path of discovery about factory farm conditions that has enlightened me far more than my yearly drive past the feed lots along I-5 in Central California ever did. Now, whenever I buy eggs or milk or meat I get a major guilt complex.

One might think that a person like me would turn vegetarian. I was raised vegetarian, so it wouldn’t be so bad. Alas, I have married a meat-eater of epic proportions and my two sons are following in his footsteps. Further compounding my dilemma is the fact that I am gluten intolerant, so my ability to get balanced protein from my food is seriously restricted. With me working full time and trying to be a good mom and wife, I just cannot take on the extra planning, shopping and cooking necessary to become a vegetarian all by myself whilst my meat-eating men pursue their meat-rich dietary preference.

So it was a joy to me to discover hunting. I have been blessed with natural shooting skills and because I love animals and don’t want them to suffer I take great care before squeezing the trigger. I have never wounded an animal or had to track one. Every one has dropped dead within ten feet of where I shot it. The meat is truly free range. The animal hasn’t been corrupted by antibiotics or any other unnatural substance, been crammed into unnaturally tight and filthy quarters, been kicked or manhandled, or suffered in terror awaiting its turn in the slaughterhouse line (nor has it been eaten alive by a predatory animal).

Some people think my position is conflicted, while others see it as silly. But for me, hunting is my own little anti-factory farming protest. And it allows me to feel good when I sit down to dinner.

Posted by Becky at April 6, 2006 02:35 PM