Letters to the Editor
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Great article
I grew up in a small town and had a number of relatives who raised and slaughtered their own meat. It was weird to me how my country cousins could cut poor Sugar Plum's nuts out, much less haul him down to the local meat packer, then pick him up a few days later and put his remains in the freezer, but there it is. Or, rather, there was old Sugar Plum on my plate...with biscuits and gravy.
Fortunately, I "got it" that delicate sensibilities like mine were the product of my own distance from this way of life. My cousins were living the modern version of millions of years of human history since we learned animal husbandry.
I applaud "urban farmers" and backpackers and pet owners and anyone else who chooses to connect with nature--and thereby connect with their own animal nature--in a firsthand, non-intellectual way.
For one creature to live, something must die. It is not, in my opinion, the mere fact of eating other living things that is the most important thing to consider, but how we treat those things and, by extension, ourselves.
Poor old Sugar Plum had a decent enough life for a steer, far better than that of those animals who went through the big corporate meat machines and had their hides rolled off, some of them still alive because of careless kill floor workers and the pace at which they must work.
And as far as eating animals that have died of natural causes, forget it. They are sometimes diseased and always too tough.
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I'm surprised by people's reactions to this article
Guess what: this is what happens on farms. My mother was raised on one. She and her brother were allowed to pick out their animals and name them. These animals were later slaughtered within the year. I think the reaction of some people shows how far we've come from understanding how our food is raised. Naming the turkey you're going to eat doesn't make you a monster. I can just imagine the reactions if Ms. Carpenter hadn't named her turkey. "She treated this animal like a commodity as if it didn't have blood flowing through its veins--she's sick! sick! sick!"
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Great article
I am not vegetarian; I am an omnivore trying to sort out how to balance my liking for meat with how I feel about factory farming. I also raise dogs and cats (and birds and fish), so I have to think about how I feel about having protein-gobbling critters around for my own amusement. Plus I'm a yuppie environmentalist--you know, the kind who does not live in a commune in North Carolina but tries on a personal scale.
The only way I can do any of this and stay sane is to keep in mind what I am doing. When I buy meat, I am eating 10-20lbs of feed for each pound of meat I consume. When I buy local eggs, I get better eggs, and they didn't take a ton of energy to get them to me. When I walk to the store I'm getting exercise and not using the car. When I eat shellfish, I am raiding an oyster bed.
Maybe I'll try raising rabbits if we move to a place with enough room.
As for the person lamenting the memories the 10yo is getting--I wouldn't worry. When I was six a man in our neighborhood slaughtered the caribou he hunted in his garage. We kids used to go watch, and he gave me a piece of skin that I tanned like I'd read about Eskimos doing. I was fascinated.
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Do vegans keep carnivores as pets?
Rambler, this quote got me thinking: I also raise dogs and cats (and birds and fish), so I have to think about how I feel about having protein-gobbling critters around for my own amusement.
Do vegans keep dogs and cats as pets/companion animals? If so, what do they feed them? I read somewhere that dogs can be fed a vegetarian diet (though I can't believe that's optimal for their health) but cats have to have taurine in their diets, which can only be found in animal protein. Does that mean that cats are out as pets?
BTW, if you think that the author was cruel, try checking out WhatJeffKilled.com, which is a photo blog of the critters the author's cat catches and eats (it's pretty graphic so if you have a sensitive stomach don't go there). Predators in nature aren't sensitive to things like causing minimal pain in slaughter or even ensuring the prey is dead before starting to eat it.
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It was a turkey.
Oh for goodness' sake. It was a turkey.
Some letters here read as if the author lived out "A Modest Proposal" in real time.
It was a turkey.
Go to the mirror. Open your mouth. See the teeth? See the pointy ones? You are an omnivore.
Now, if you choose NOT to be omnivorous, that's OK. Someone has to eat all that tofu before it buries us like an advancing glacier.
But the only thing more irritating and fruitless than the self-glorified bleating of a pale and pasty evangelizing vegan is -- no wait, there's nothing.
It was a turkey.
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faith?
So fun to see the vegans and faux vegans pontifcating their version of morality. Nice distraction from the evangelical christians spouting theirs. It's all faith based. Some smell like incense, some like patchouli.
Fundamentalists - gotta luv 'em.
Great article. "The Encyclopedia of Country Living" just hit my christmas wish list.
Why wait for thanksgiving? Another great feast is a "matanza". Buy a smallish pig and pit roast it. I do recomend having the seller kill and gut it unless you have a plan for using the innards. Otherwise they go to waste. All you have to supply is the pig because friends and neighbors will bring more food and booze than can be consumed.
Oh - don't raise your own pig unless you plan to keep pigs.
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I'm a hypocrite
I eat meat.
I could probably kill a wild animal and eat it. I've killed fish and eaten them. I don't cry for clams or crabs.
But I admit that this story bothered me enormously, and I don't care that some people say 'It's just a turkey'.
It wasn't just a turkey; it was her turkey. She raised him since he was a baby, and he had a name, a personality and a bond with her.
As a pet owner, that's pretty rough to take in stride. The hardest part was how he trusted her to lay his neck down.
When I cuddle with my cats at night, I know they trust me. It's my responsibility to take care of them. To love them. They have names and faces and identities as part of our family. I don't think I could eat them.
Now maybe turkeys aren't that smart, and maybe they don't bond with humans in the same way. But this article makes it sound as if they do. And that's why it's so uncomfortable.
Certainly, I don't think this woman did anything wrong. But for a pet owner, this reads like something very alien and disturbing, even as it depicts the realities of life.