Toronto, Ontario
About Animals and Me
Now I was raised on a small farm. We had—on this ten acre
piece of land—a house, barn, sizeable front yard, a garage for two vehicles,
and an orchard to accommodate some apple, peach, plum, pear and mulberry trees,
and in stock—some animals. Oh, and I forgot the chicken coop in the barnyard.
There was a family milk cow, chickens, pigs, a goat, a pony, pheasants and
peacocks.
My dad was good with the animals like he was with the
veggies (oh and we also had a plentiful garden). But there came a point where some of our
livestock went up for slaughter. The animals were trucked away, and a little
extra money came our way to support a family of eight.
When it came to the chickens, well, we had to do the (dis)honour
ourselves. My dad handed me a hen one day, and the hatchet, and like he had
done in the past, he expected me to perform the execution. I couldn’t come
around to doing that. “I was chicken!“ as they say. So we came to a compromise.
I would pluck the (stinky) feathers after he beheaded the poor thing. It was
hard to hold my nose when two hands were needed. It was always difficult to be
at the dinner table when one of our former pets became our meal. I won’t judge
my father. He really was a Super-Dad and in so many respects. Anyway, I
eventually became an easy convert to vegetarianism.
The difficulty with humans taking the lives of animals, as a
livelihood, is always a problem, and now we see that with the meddling of bats,
monkeys, birds etc., we humans are paying the price. Mankind is haunted by viruses.
There are alternative lifestyles. We need to go there.
May the Source be with you!
4 km
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