Animal Person

"The Animals We Use," Revised

As anyone who writes and edits knows, it's far easier to produce a longer powerful, thorough piece than a shorter one.

I intentionally deleted the entire section on the environment, I'm not dealing with the health benefits of not using animals, and meanwhile I wanted to present a logical progression of comments and questions that, for its perspective, was thorough. And all while remaining accurate with verbiage.

Thanks for the comments and suggestions. I did change some language as there were places were clarification was needed. But the essence is the same. Thorough is a tough concept, and I can't say I succeeded, but here's my best short(er) version.

I give you: the revised Thinking Critically About The Animals We Use.

 

On Stanley and Family Commitments

He's 79 pounds of muscle, he sports a tuxedo, he's got gorgeous teeth (a first for the hounds in our house) and he's very shy. And afraid of men.

On the upside, he's a mellow youngish guy (he turns four in March), he's healthy, he loves to jog a couple of miles every morning and he's great on the leash.

And he's child friendly.

Violet Rays is not a kid dog. The neighborhood kids love her because she's beautiful ("Where's the tiger? We want to see the tiger!" they say when they come to the door on Halloween.) But we always tell them not to touch her unless she approaches them. Violet doesn't want to be messed with, and if you mess with her she'll growl. And if you keep messing with you she'll bark and show you all eight of her teeth. No biting or scratching or even lunging, but still, it can be scary.

Violet's a member of our family. So when we adopted a human baby we knew we'd have to teach that human to avoid Violet. And we'd have to be vigilant, as kids don't always listen and do push boundaries. At no point would we consider having to rehome Violet. The growing little human in the house was basically taught to stay far away from dogs and respect their space. And she does.

Enter Stanley. We weren't planning to adopt another . . . anyone . . . but a friend who volunteers for a rescue group told me of a greyhound event around the corner from my house. Maybe Violet wanted to say hi to those of her kind. If Violet can be said to love anyone, it's other greyhounds. We went to the event and she was pretty indifferent after the first five minutes, but at one point she did rest her chin on Stanley's back. There were 15 greyhounds in the small pet food store, and Violet and Stanley were equally uninterested in the event. Sky petted Stanley and he just stood there.

Happy 12th Birthday Violet Rays!

There she is . . . my girl.

She has beaten the odds and made it another year.

The life expectancy of greyhounds is 12-15 years. If they've raced, you subtract a year for each year of racing. Violet Rays was a very successful competitor and the offspring of a Hall of Famer, and she made someone a lot of money, winning race after race for the two years she was hauled between Oregon and South Florida.

I'm told that her performance was likely enhanced by injectable steroids, which had the unfortunate effect of shutting down her pancreas and rendering her diabetic. Of course, that also rendered her defective and she was therefore immediately "discarded." She was adopted immediately, but returned almost as quickly because the people didn't realize how inconvenient diabetes can be. Violet was just under four-years old.

Diabetes shortens the life expectancy of human and nonhuman animals, by years. If we conservatively say that it would shave a year off Violet's life, and add that year to the racing years, that puts her life expectancy at . . . 12. However, once you add in her going blind from cataracts (which we replaced), and her retinas detaching (one completely, one not), and her glaucoma and cornea issues, her life expectancy dwindles further. Then there's her hideous gum disease that has left her few remaining teeth in bad shape but without much to do for them (the vets won't touch them).

She's our 62-pound miracle.

We spent the end of 2004 and beginning of 2005 getting fired by vet after vet. And the ones who didn't fire us gave us the pleasure of firing them. The problem was that Violet's diabetes wasn't regulated and no one could get it regulated. She spent week after week at the vet, day in and day out. Violet shrank to 43 pounds. We're fairly sure she was about to die, and that was after spending $10,000 trying to save her. Her head hung low. She didn't look anyone in the eye. Her eyes were vacant.

And then I met an internist named Dr. Toll at a veterinary specialty hospital about two hours away. He told me to stop going to the vet because that's what was killing Violet Rays. She needed to know that I was committed to her life and the way I would demonstrate that was to keep her by my side and regulate her myself, using the same glucometer and test strips people use. He charged me $120, and within a month Violet was gaining weight and full of life.

And though she's had her minor obstacles and surgeries, she's been in remarkable shape for eight years. She's slowed down a lot. And by a lot, I mean during the summer sometimes she'd go outside only to relieve herself twice a day. And by outside, I mean ten feet into the backyard.

Now that it's cooler (under 80 most days), she's perked up and on Thanksgiving she even whizzed around a baseball field with her new brother Stanley (more on him later!) for 10 minutes. And at top speed for about half that time. She's still got it, and it's beautiful to watch.

Violet's not too keen on food these days, which is problematic for a diabetic because the insulin dose is contingent upon the amount of food consumed. And the dose can't fluctuate by more than one unit at a time, therefore getting her to eat a whole meal is important. Unfortunately, Violet doesn't like her vegan food or most other food, but will eat food that smells terrible for some reason. So I went through bag by bag of everything at our small pet health food store until I found the perfect combination of dead animals and their parts.

We do what we must.

For the past couple of months I've been saying that I'd be the happiest person in the galaxy if Violet Rays made it to winter and her 12th birthday. But now, of course, I want more.

Whatever Violet wants is the priority, though. She's weak and tired and she should be! We had a rough start, but she's had seven-plus years of vibrant life. She runs when she wants to run, she sunbathes when she wants and for as long as she wants, and she loves riding in the car so much that I take her around the neighborhood a few times a week just to see how delighted she is. And recently, she has allowed Baby Sky to sit next to her and gently touch her face. I couldn't ask for more than that.

Happy Birthday Violet Rays! Mommy loves you!

On Dogs and Unconditional Love

Saturday was the one-year anniversary of the tragic death of my Charles Hobson Booger, III and it got me thinking about how easy he was to love. Everyone loved him. Okay, not everyone. There was that little Westie whose vulva he bit early on. Yes, vulva. No stitches, no puncture, but still a nasty bruise and some scratches. Charles had a higher prey drive than he appeared to have at first. No playing with little white dogs, which isn't uncommon for greyhounds. We just had to work with him and manage him and we were happy to do so.

As for people, Charles loved everyone and was very enthusiastic to meet someone new. He was 85 pounds (large for a greyhound), very muscular (odd for a greyhound) and spectacularly gorgeous, with Pharaoh Hound-like ears. Easy to love.

And as much as I miss him, this post isn't about Charles. Nor is it about Violet Rays, who is still with us at nearly 12-years old. She's an insulin-dependent diabetic who can hardly see (she had cataracts which we replaced, but then her retinas started to detach and we didn't catch them in time) and has very few teeth due to severe gum disease (greyhound breeders and trainers don't take care of the teeth of the hounds, as that's not where the money is). She has definitely slowed down, but she looks great and has perked up a bit now that it's regularly under 90 degrees and the humidity decreases by the week.

Violet's stunning, and that's what everyone notices first and comments on. But she's not really keen on anyone and isn't at all social. People like her because she's beautiful. Violet doesn't want to be touched unless she comes to you or you approach her very carefully and ask permission. She's not snuggly. She doesn't follow me from room to room (that was Charles' job), and she barely lifts her head when I walk in the door (as opposed to Charles, who'd come running). She doesn't want Sky to come that close to her and she's no fan of Emily the kitty.

I wouldn't say Violet loves unconditionally.

And none of that matters, because Violet doesn't exist to boost my self-esteem. We adopted Violet to give her a safe and loving home. She had already been returned by people who didn't want to deal with her diabetes because it was inconvenient for them. And it is inconvenient.

Now that I have a child, I can safely say that children are very, very inconvenient. Far more than a diabetic greyhound. But you love them and they're part of your family and returning them would be unthinkable. You do what's necessary for them because they deserve the best chance at a great life, and if they never thank you that shouldn't matter.

What you do for them isn't contingent upon what they give you in return.

And the same should be true for nonhuman animals. They shouldn't have to be beautiful, perfectly behaved, healthy and wanting a human as the center of their universe for them to be deserving of a good life.

----

No greyhounds were forced to race in the above photo. They were actually cooling down by walking at their leisure after playing in the adjacent field.

Where Does Vegan Baby Sky Get Her Protein?

I'm constantly asked about the details of Baby Sky's life.

Where does she get her protein?

How are her bones going to grow without cow's milk?

You mean she's never eaten bacon?

Are you a communist?

At Baby Sky's 15 month checkup she landed at about the 75th percentile for height and weight. She comes from small stock, so I do see that decreasing a bit. It's already down from the 90th percentile. She was a gigantic baby!

She has been sick twice, once with a viral infection and once with a bacterial one (strep). We've been fortunate enough to have avoided the dreaded first trip to the emergency room, which is a tad surprising because the child is a fearless, avid explorer with a lot of energy. A lot.

Her nutrition came from Earth's Best organic soy formula for the first year, and since then she's been eating non-baby food supplemented by a bottle of Baby's Only organic soy formula (designed for toddlers and can be used until age 3). I use half water and half organic carrot juice and organic apple juice. I made some pureed food for her for a couple of months but she wasn't really that interested and I was a bit concerned until after her first birthday, when she decided to eat everything.

Her favorite breakfast? A plate of strawberries, watermelon, cantaloupe, blueberries and peaches, followed by banana ice cream. Banana ice cream = frozen bananas + ground flax seeds + raw cashew butter + raw almond butter + almond milk + Vita Mix. Plenty of fat, protein, omega-3s and yumminess. I eat it, too. Saturday morning is pancake morning. Spelt, oat bran, whole wheat, coconut flour. Blueberries and bananas. Or not. Maybe even some 80% dark chocolate (slavery-free, care of Equal Exchange--Panama's the kind we get). Of course she eats a bunch of batter first, then a couple of pancakes.

Her favorite lunch? Vegetable hummus + avocado on whole wheat pita bread. Dessert? Brown rice pudding (brown rice + a warm mixture of toffuti cream cheese, tofu and coconut butter). Her favorite snack? Roasted zucchini sprinkled with Daiya in a pool of marinara. She'll eat an entire zucchini. She loves kale chips. Ditto for vanilla soy yogurt. Steel cut oats? Yummy. Snow balls are a huge favorite (ground organic raisins, dates, almond and walnuts rolled in shredded coconut). As far as drinks go, she has one that looks and tastes similar to chocolate milk, made with almond milk and chocolate-flavored Amazing Grass Kidz Superfood. And then there's "fruit punch," or, orange juice + water + the wildberry Kidz Superfood. She doesn't walk around drinking straight wheat grass--Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Dinner? Sweet potatoes with navy beans. Garbanzo bean salad, mashed a bit (her molars are still giant blisters). Any kind of gardein, chopped, with sauteed asparagus, is always a great meal. Smoothies, complete with orange juice, raw fruits, raw nut butters and a handful of kale. Delicious!

On the non-food green front, we used cloth diapers and then practiced Elimination Communication since month 10, and Baby Sky now pees and poops in her potty and doesn't wear a diaper except at night (and that's probably about to change). She's napping right now, diaper free. During the diaper months, rather than wipes, I used receiving blankets cut up into smallish squares and a squirt bottle of water. We still use the cut up blankets as rags/in place of paper towels.

The toy rule is pretty much: Little or no plastic and no batteries. She has a lot of wood toys and I'm queasy about where the wood came from, so that's not ideal. Otherwise, her room looks very sparse. And yellow. Very yellow (we used a no VOC paint, at least). But that's another story.

For a short time, Sky slept in a crib (secondhand, from a neighbor) with a (new) coconut coir mattress, but now she sleeps on a full size futon on the floor (formerly of one of the guest rooms upstairs--so no purchase necessary!). It's a Montessori thing. And let me be the first one to say that bassinetts and cribs are a complete waste of money; all you need is a mattress on the floor and some firm pillows surrounding it (for the early months).

Sky doesn't have a lot of stuff and I don't have a lot of gear. She spends most of her time outside, naked (it's still nearly 90 degrees here), exploring the world. She has very few pieces of clothing (and most are secondhand) and many of her books and toys are secondhand (and we had to weed through them for animal use). There are several girls a bit older than Sky on the block who give us lots of goodies. And there's one younger. The younger one gets the loot as soon as that's appropriate, and/or I donate them to the local Foster and Adoptive Parents Association.

So far, no one has been interested in trying cloth diapers, and stores won't take them, so if anyone has any need for them, speak now before they become rags!

Sky's days wouldn't be complete without her constant companion, Emily Fokker (our chunky FIP kitty). They follow each other around all day and rub their faces on each other. It's adorable! Violet Rays, being nearly 12 and nearly blind, isn't as keen on the child. Or any other child. Or the cat. Or anyone else, for that matter. I think she likes me but that's about it. Plus, only the trained eye would be able to determine that she likes me.

I mention this because all too often people surrender their dogs--or even cats--once they have children. I'll refrain from ranting. But what I will say is that you work at it. I have taught Sky to stay away from Violet. If Violet approaches her Sky may touch her, but only with one finger. Sky gives her a wide berth when she walks around her, and yes, it's a bummer that Sky is a little afraid of dogs. But that's far better than Sky not respecting them and then having them feel they must defend themselves. The most Violet will do is bark and show her four teeth, but trust me when I say that her boney, old, alpha self can make a grown man jump in fear when she wants to, all without ever laying a paw on him.

There you have it: a rough sketch of Baby Sky's life. If you have any questions about anything we do or use, fire away! No matter what your beliefs are, when you're a parent you educate yourself about parenting style, nutrition (and Ginny Messina's fabulous Vegan for Life recently arrived and includes nutrition information as well as sample menus for kids!) and formal education options (if you're lucky enough to have options). I may be a vegan and an atheist, but I'm really just a parent doing the best I can to give my child the best life possible.

On "Imposing" Our Beliefs on Our Children

It's fascinating, how what 98% of Americans do with their children is called "parenting" and "guidance." It can also be referred to as "transmission of culture," with its handing down of the trappings, rituals, holidays and even mutilations of religion and ethnicity.

But what I do is "imposing" or "forcing" veganism and atheism on my child. It's not parenting; it's considered behavior that's irresponsible at best, and abusive at worst.

As far as atheism goes, I'd rather my child have a healthy skepticism that is fact driven and science driven. I'd rather stress personal responsibility and the realistic notion that life isn't fair and owes you nothing. And that we have the ability to change our lives and circumstances (and that that is a statement of privilege). You know what would be irresponsible? For me to tell my daughter that there's some invisible being who, if he desires, can control anything in the universe he wants to control. Including her life. That she needs to respect that being, or else. Or even worship that being, who may or may not exist. That she might suffer tremendously in her life, and that the Being With Ultimate Power is actually doing her a favor by making her suffer. By choosing her to suffer in the manner in which she suffers. He has his reasons.

My parents did their best to raise my sister and me. They did nothing controversial and my sister and I grew up more or less just like most of our friends on suburban Long Island. We were presented with animals to eat and wear. We ate and wore them. We were presented with animal bodies to celebrate over at holidays. Animal skin to wear on our feet.

When my husband and I first adopted Baby Sky, several friends and relatives asked, "are you going to make her be a vegan? And what happens if she decides to eat meat later on?" Essentially, my parents made me eat and wear dead animals. I grew up respecting dogs and cats, but not other animals. Animals existed for my entertainment in zoos, water parks and at circuses. It wasn't in the consciousness of my parents that the values they were transmitting were marked by disrespect for others. They were simply raising us as best they could within the mainstream culture.

One could also say, however, that they were imposing their beliefs on us. They were forcing us to be consumers of animal exploitation industries. I'm not sure if it technically takes a level of intent to force or impose beliefs, or if you can do it by default by not offering other options or not encouraging critical thinking. Saying, "we eat animals, because that's what we do" may make no sense whatsoever, but it's the reason many people continue to eat animals. To do or think otherwise, to acknowledge the absence of logic or empathy in that reasoning, is to open a door that cannot be closed, regardless of the behavior that follows.

When I was in my teens, I told my dad (who was driving the Catholic bus, while mom drove the bus headed toward Buddhism) that I wasn't going to go to church until girls could be priests. I'd been thinking about the set-up of The Church and didn't like it. I had good reasons, which were listed, listened to and respected, and I stopped going to church. And when I discovered what animals went through on their way to becoming our meals, I made appropriate changes in that direction as well.

I'm raising my daughter with a clear, stated ethic: Respect other beings, as no one exists for your benefit. I'm forcing that on her just as much as the omnivores next door are forcing their ethics on their children, through their words and deeds.

It's transmission of a culture that I'm proud of.

If Sky reaches her teens and decides that animals do indeed exist for our benefit, and that there is a god whom she'd like to worship (and furthermore, that her name is spelled Skye), we'll deconstruct those notions together and she will do what she will do. But I won't feel like I had done her a disservice by raising her with a heart for justice and a mind for inquiry.

Vegan Atheist 40+ Parenting

I was going to change Animal Person to Vegan Atheist 40+ Parenting and come back to blogging. Doesn't have a ring to it at all, but a young man at Whole Foods yesterday called himself an "animal person" while ordering a roast beef wrap and I thought: Note to self-must change blog name if going to resume blogging.

Hal Herzog writes about how many people who say they are vegetarians will also say they ate meat within the last 24 hours. And of course, many self-identified vegetarians eat fishes and/or chickens. A good friend said he "loved" animals the other day and my response was, "Yeah, you love them grilled." He laughed, but nervously.

Then there are the people who use the word "sacred" when they're talking about eating the flesh of other animals. You know, because of the prayer they said for the animal's "sacrifice." You say a prayer and Poof! The unnecessary killing of a terrified animal who was likely fighting for his life, becomes he lined up to be slaughtered so you may dine on his flesh. Oooo, pick me, pick me!

My doctorate in Applied Linguistics from New York University puts me at a considerable disadvantage. I pay attention to the words people say--and write. And sometimes I feel like words weren't made to get that much attention. They can't handle it. So many of them have become virtually meaningless, or at least unrecognizable from their original intentions.

Hal Herzog's "Some We Love, Some We Hate, Some We Eat"

Hal Herzog’s “Some We Love, Some We Hate, Some We Eat” (Harper 2011), though fascinating, is ultimately depressing for vegans and animal rights activists. Over at Animal Rights and AntiOppression, we’ve been discussing tactics and sharing our thoughts and experiences about what works and doesn’t work when it comes to advocacy. In a manner that’s Malcolm Gladwell meets Freakonomics, which is the fascinating part, Herzog investigates our beliefs and actions regarding nonhuman animals (anthrozoology). He pairs conventional wisdom with actual research on such wisdom and speaks to experts who’ve been pondering the issues from the perspectives of their various disciplines. The research, much of the time, doesn’t support the conventional wisdom (which is not to say the case is closed on any issue). For instance, dolphins don’t actually have the curative powers some claim they have (22); there’s no evidence that pet owners have different personalities than non pet owners (28); having to kill and cut up an animal does not stop one from eating meat (189); the majority of people who abused animals as children do not grow up to be violent (30); and 80% of serial killers do not have a known history of cruelty to animals (31). Herzog states, “The awkward fact is that most wanton animal cruelty is not perpetrated by inherently bad kids but by normal children who will eventually grow up to be good citizens” (34).

 

Most interesting for me was the mental lock most people have that we vegans are always looking to break or find the key to: Why do good people who understand what happens to animals for unnecessary products such as “steak” or eggs, continue to consume such things? The answer, throughout the entire 300 pages, essentially is: Because they do. People believe one thing and do another. All day long. If slaughterhouses had glass walls? Well, as it turns out neither a trip to a slaughterhouse nor killing an animal yourself is powerful enough to make people go vegan. “The bottom line is that there are many reasons why human-animal interactions are so often inconsistent and paradoxical. Thousands of studies have demonstrated that human thinking about nearly everything is surprisingly irrational” (65).

 

Much of the book deals with topics vegans have likely pondered, likely frequently. We understand the importance of being cute for other animals, we’ve realized that the decision who to eat or wear or value is largely based on culture. Many of us have difficulty with the idea of keeping “pets.” On that topic and a few others, Herzog doesn’t include what for lack of a better term is “vegan thinking.” When it comes to pets, the only reasons he considers for keeping pets have to do with the enrichment of the lives of people. He doesn’t seem to have met anyone who considers keeping pets to not be ideal, yet necessary out of a feeling of responsibility or obligation due to our part in their plight. And by the way, he debunks the idea of dogs and unconditional love, as well as the idea that pet owners are less lonely than people who don’t own pets. At least his research on pit bull-types of dogs demonstrates the injustice they face.

 

Herzog, unsurprisingly, uses “it” to refer to animals, eats and wears them, and “[does] not feel particularly guilty about it” (P.S., page 6). He is an unabashed speciesist, putting humans on “a different moral plane from that of other animals” (11) due to various reasons, such as our “vastly greater capacity for symbolic language, culture, and ethical judgment” (11). He watched cockfighting and killed and skinned animals, but won’t eat veal. And this is partly what’s so disappointing about the message of this book: Herzog amasses the research, and sees and does things that involve tremendous suffering and injustice. And yet he’s perfectly content to lump himself in with the vast majority of people who claim to care about animals but act like they don’t. My frustration is evident in the comments I’ve carved across the pages that make it impossible for me to now donate the book to my local library.

 

On page 172, when Herzog writes, “I am conflicted over many moral issues involving animals,” I respond, “No kidding!” When he spends what seems like an eternity discussing cockfighting and the people who participate, mostly to set up the comparison to how the chickens we eat are treated and the lack of outrage over that, I respond, “What is wrong with you? You’re right, it is horrible! So why the hell do you continue to participate in the killing of chickens for food, yet cockfighting is no longer on your list?” But I’m merely making his point. People are irrational and conflicted and make a show of taking a stand but manage to still do whatever they want in the end. When Staci, an ex-vegetarian who now eats raw meat, writes to Herzog that she thinks it takes bravery to kill animals (she says “butcher) and talks about “reverence” and “completing the cycle” and that “taking responsibility is somehow the balm that soothes the horror,” I wonder why Herzog isn’t disgusted by that and doesn’t want to call her out for her ridiculous verbiage that means nothing to the animals she kills. What about their horror?  In response, I can only underline these phrases with seven-page deep gashes.

 

Most informative for a discussion about vegan advocacy is the section about the animal rights movement (and unfortunately he alternately calls it “animal protection” and also refers to welfare, perhaps because of the Humane Research Council’s study that people prefer the word “protection”). “The campaign to moralize meat has largely been a failure. . . . Ironically, the efforts by animal protectionists to improve the well-being of farm animals have made the consumption of flesh more, rather than less, morally palatable” (191).

 

Finally, regarding actual animal rights, Herzog is aware of Singer and Regan and appears to have respect for them despite the fact that he says they “[take] moral consistency too seriously” (259). (Yes, you read that right.) Joan Dunayer is a different story, however, as Herzog thinks she “lives in a moral universe that should cause even hardcore animal activists to shudder” (255). He evidently has no idea that abolitionists exist and thinks Dunayer is an outlier. Of course I was appalled, but out there in the mainstream world, she is an outlier. He merely reminds me of how little I have in common with the average person who claims to care about animals. Meanwhile, throughout the book he does describe people who would likely call themselves abolitionists. They are vegans, and he has the utmost respect for them. They are superheroes for being able to think about all of these issues so thoroughly and have the will power to do something about them. They are extraordinary. But him? He prefers to take the stance that because moral consistency is impossible (i.e., no one is 100% vegan), you “do what you can do.” If that means volunteering at a dog rescue or giving money to PETA, all while eating and using animals, at least you’re doing something. Of course that can be debated. But also, it’s such a low, low bar—such a disappointing expectation. We should demand more.

 

Clarification on Messaging

Vegan education/advocacy for animals is easiest for me when I know my audience. And by "know," I mean I have a relationship with them and/or I understand what drives them, what they appreciate and what they can tolerate. From there, my job is to use images and language that they are comfortable with, especially at the beginning, and then to nudge them gently into areas that challenge their thoughts and actions. Some people can tolerate more than a gentle nudging. Some people get what to me is disproportionately defensive if I'm anything but very accepting of their choices and how much they want to know. Of course, those people, who are often the "spiritual" ones, are particularly frustrating to deal with.

I was going in a different direction with this post when I read Deb's "Effective Images in Advocacy: Do We Know What Works?" this morning. She makes such a great point that I want to address it now. We don't know what works. Everyone has an opinion. Everyone has a story. Anecdotal evidence abounds. We all have a personal preference. But when it comes to reaching the maximum number of people and creating the maximum impact, we simply don't know what does the job, although we do know what we're willing to do.

If you've seen The Witness, you know that Eddie drove around with a van that had a continuously looping video of what it takes to get the fur that some find so appealing (and he gave out leaflets, too). And right now, Mercy for Animals' Farm to Fridge Tour is doing that too, in addition to picketing and getting mainstream media exposure for the short film. PETA's been using horrifying images for years. Earthlings is devastating and although I watched it in full, I can't imagine anyone I know being prepared for it or agreeing to watch more than a few minutes.

I spent years forcing people to look at photos of bludgeoned baby seals, "veal" calves in crates and skinned animals. I always used the words "flesh" and "enslavement." I don't think any of that was incorrect, per se. But I can say that it immediately put the other person on the defensive. As far as I know, all I accomplished was presenting myself as an angry person who people didn't want to talk to again.

Okay . . . maybe I used the word "murder." Maybe I used it regularly. And just maybe that was the word more responsible than others for me alienating people. Maybe. I can't say for sure. I was the embodiment of "agitating for social change." I was agitating everyone.

Challenging someone's beliefs--or clarifying that their beliefs are not aligned with their actions--is an adversarial task inherently. And it's up to us to decide just how adversarial it should be. But I can't imagine that there's one way to do it and we should criticize every other way. If you find something that works for you with your audience, I say keep doing it.

 

On Fighting for "Animal Rights"

Being featured on ARZone's worldwide Live Guest Chat has reinvigorated my thinking about a couple of topics (here's the transcript). And then I read the "OMG!!!!!OED!!!!!LOL!!!!!" in today's New York Times, and I couldn't resist posting.

A couple of years ago I wrote about whether it's a good use of my time to be a purist about the term "animal rights" when most of the world doesn't have the same understanding of the term as I do. (I'll look for the post and link to it later, but while Baby Sky's not up yet I want to at least post something.) Likewise for "abolitionist."

Regarding the additions of OMG and LOL, the editorial says that they:

bring to mind the words of William Safire, The Times’s former master wordsmith, who climbed down from the conservative ramparts in the culture wars 25 years ago to accept that “words come to mean what most people think they mean, not what we say they ought to mean.”

I spent several years writing, daily, and often with shock, about how, for instance, the NYT--the New York Times (OMG!!!!!)--would call HSUS an animal rights group (after all, HSUS doesn't even do that). Or how a paragraph would refer to animal rights and animal welfare as if they're interchangeable.

Of course, I say to myself, language is worth fighting for. But is it? Won't the battle always be won by common usage/the majority? Isn't my time better spent fighting for actual animal rights than the term "animal rights?"

I think of the time I spent writing about or talking about "Francione-style abolition," and "abolition." Francione has defined abolition in a certain way and if you don't adhere strictly to his definition, you are not a Francione-style abolitionist. The rest of the animal advocacy community, which is the vast majority, who call themselves abolitionists, are abolitionists. They don't satisfy all of the requirements of Francione, but their goal is the abolition of the use of sentient nonhumans by humans. They are abolitionists, just not Francione-style abolitionists.

It would be wonderfully dramatic to be able to say: I'm going to fight for animals rather than for language, but it's not that clear cut. Fighting to maintain the integrity of the words humane, love, euthanasia or compassion, is also fighting for animals. And it usually involves exchanges with non-vegans. It helps them focus on what's really being done to animals. But fighting for the term animal rights or about the term abolition ends up, in the real world, being about fighting with other vegans (and I don't know if fighting is the proper term--it very likely isn't--but I'm out of time to get into that).

I could debate about language all day, with vegans and non-vegans. But I have to think about which words I focus on, and whether they're going to help me in my quest to get more people to stop killing nonhuman animals/having them killed when they don't need to.

Finally, I think that there are a variety of reasons you might want to talk about language or use language that the average person isn't accustomed to. But for the average discussion with the average dog and cat person, I say stick with the language they use ("I love animals," "I only buy meat that was humanely raised"), and use those opportunities to educate them and point out the inconsistency in their claims. I say don't start talking about terms that mean nothing to them or using language that might alienate them.

But that's me . . .

Animal Person at ARZone This Saturday

 

I'm honored to have been asked to be interviewed at the next worldwide Live Guest Chat hosted by ARZone.

Questions must be submitted to Carolyn@ARZone.net by midnight GMT on Wednesday.

Here's the link to the page, and I hope to meet you there.

Thanks!

Mary Martin, PhD

 

 

 

The Animals We Use

After failing miserably at a long pamphlet in 2007, I decided to shorten it by 50% and focus on a different audience: people who use animals. I think part of the original work's problem was that it was too ambitious--not to mention expensive to produce--and everything suffered. I wanted to reach people who use animals, but also people who don't, yet who nevertheless advocate for the regulation of the use of animals or give money to organizations that do.

This pamphlet, by the way, is the same one I gave to someone whose response was: The argument for using animals isn't the problem. The argument's flawless. It's just not gonna stop me from eating a steak if that's what I want to eat.

So we already know that, at least for some people, words aren't going to make them care. Words, apparently, do not engender empathy. Or a desire for justice. For that, we need images, I'm afraid. We need to see individual animals and read/hear their stories.

And we need support. I don't know what the effectiveness of online support is, but I do know that talking to people, eating with them, shopping with them, surfing the Internet with them, sharing cooking tips with them, cooking for and with them, and making yourself available for sharing the emotional and social difficulties of a transition from using animals to using them less, does work. That's what I do, and it works, as in--people go vegan and stay vegan.

Thinking Critically About The Animals We Use can be printed on one 11 x 17 sheet and folded in half and isn't designed to make anyone into an activist. But it is designed to help its readers face their own rationales for continuing a behavior that they themselves probably don't agree with. Like part of the original, it traces the conversations I have over and over again, with good people who simply aren't educated about what's involved in the use of animals, or they are, yet they continue to not align their actions with their knowledge and what they believe to be right.

And that disconnect is deadly and reeks of injustice.

----

I thought about calling the pamphlet Thinking Critically About The Ways We Use Animals, but liked the current title because I wanted to bring attention to The Animals first. I did create a but of a grammatical issue, but I'm not sure if it's a distracting one. What do you think?

On Individuals and Thanksgiving

Yesterday, I was on my way to the Foster and Adoptive Parents Association, which has a "store" and allows those parents to "shop" for clothing, toys and baby gear at no cost to them. Basically, they give stuff away, unlike Goodwill and the Salvation Army and others, who charge for their donated goods.

Everyone was slamming on their brakes on a major road and as I crept around the mayhem I saw the reason: a turtle of some kind. His shell was probably ten inches in diameter, and when I looked in my rearview mirror as I was about to pull over I saw several other cars pulling over. Four people emerged from the cars and were practically tripping over one another trying to get to the turtle to carry him to safety.

One small act of kindness perhaps, but for the turtle a life-saving one.

I wondered what these people would be doing for Thanksgiving. All of the brakes and the hazard lights and the cursing and the near collisions and the concern for this one individual. The inconvenience, the worry about the creature, the relief when he was, at least for that moment, free from harm. I couldn't help but juxtapose all of that care for one individual of another species with the individual who would be on the table today. Dead.

And not just dead, mind you, but cause for celebration.

Yet the turtle . . . cause for concern about his welfare. Concern about his life. Kindness. A hope for his life to continue. Even putting yourself in harm's way to help him.

Turtle . . . turkey.

 

 

On Jeff Corwin's 100 HEARTBEATS

When I was asked if I wanted to read Jeff Corwin's 100 HEARTBEATS (Rodale 2009) I was ambivalent. I know he's a "conservationist," therefore I know he will advocate for "managing" the "resources" that are sentient nonhumans. And managing means killing them, breeding them, and otherwise fiddling with their individuals in the hope of altering their populations. This is all very unveganly, but I went for it nevertheless.

Here's the good news: This is a very readable explanation of how animals in the Hundred Heartbeat Club (there are 100 or fewer individuals in the wild today) got to be in the club. It's a great primer on extinction and conservation for the layperson. It has entertaining stories, includes animals people care about because they like them (and also addresses that concept), and it describes how the numbers of various species decreased to the point of being classified as "endangered" or worse. In the majority of cases, it is humans who are to blame for the plunging numbers of animals, and Corwin is very clear about the extent to which we have destroyed the world around us.

The bad news is that Corwin writes that "every heartbeat matters" (xv) largely because "When we put the survival of the natural world in jeopardy, we simultaneously put our survival in jeopardy" (xv, and italics his). This is irksome, as the premise is that we need to save the animals (and which ones is an interesting discussion) because we will suffer if they are gone. And of course that premise is only possible because the animals (and everything else on the planet) are our "resources." But again, he's a conservationist, so none of this is a surprise. Also, after detailing how we're responsible for much of this current, depressing state, there is no loud call for us to alter our behavior.

The animals featured include ones whose predicaments are due to:

• climate change (polar bears);
• poisoning (California condor-lead in shot that killed the individuals who became carrion, American bald eagle-DDT);
• human encroachment/loss of habitat due to our activities, such as logging, mining, drilling and deforestation (Florida panther, Iberian lynx, orangutan);
• pollution (anyone trying to survive in the Yangtze river in China);
• disease (native birds in Hawaii, Tasmanian devils);
• poaching (Bengal tiger);
• or a combination thereof.

It's important to note that Corwin doesn't think he has all of the answers. He does believe we have an obligation to intervene because we are responsible for the current plight of the rest of "the natural world," which we evidently don't belong to. But he constantly wonders where and when and how much we should intervene, which I suppose is laudable.

The part that I definitely believe is laudable, and I can get behind, is in the final chapter: "Exploited to Extinction."

"What does the future hold for the members of the Hundred Heartbeat Club? That depends largely on us, our priorities, and our allocation of resources. Consider this: Every month, it takes $12 billion to fund America's involvement in the Iraq War. For only $450,000, we could buy almost all of the habitat neded to protect Ecuador's remaining frogs.

. . . .

Chances are that in any given community, there's a river that needs to be cleaned up. Or an animal that could use the aid of human intervention, such as the Florida panther, which has benefited from the culverts built to help it safely cross highways (221).

. . . .

Consider all the steps it took to create our massive carbon footprint. Now we just need to step in a different direction. We can--and we must" (222).

Those are the final words of the book. What was not considered in the previous 221 pages is that we can indeed step in a different direction today. We can stop using animals and "allocate resources" to educate Homo sapiens worldwide to change their relationship to the animals around them. Corwin tells the story of the Maasai of Kenya, whose culture involved disdain for and slaughter of lions. Through a program of education "built on mutual respect and interest" (198), the Maasai have now become guardians and caretakers of the lions, whose numbers have increased since the program's inception. In other words, we can change the way we think about animals. Cultural attitudes about animals can change.

In the perfect world, in a different book not written by a conservationist, the author would have left us with myriad ways we can decrease our carbon footprint and help the animals, beginning with ceasing our use of animals. But for now, we have a book that describes how we got here and what we might do . . . if we believe it's our right to do what we want with the lives of other animals.

 

 

 

To My Friends at Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving 2010 will be Baby Sky's first, and our opportunity to introduce her to the notion that our family doesn't eat animals (not to mention that other historical story we'll be correcting). There will be no greyhound corpse on our table, no turkey corpse and no pig corpse. There will be no pies or cakes that were made with milk that was meant for calves, or eggs that represent dead male chicks, forced molting, debeaking and other mutilations and cruelties.

When in the position of having the choice, which so far is always, I'd rather choose not to have someone killed for me. Perfectly delicious and nutritious plant-based food is available for anyone who wants to make that choice this Thanksgiving. I think the biggest obstacle is that most people don't see themselves as choosing to hurt anyone. They would say they love animals. Yet their actions, at least three times a day (and when they put their clothes and shoes on) tell a different story.

The two objections to a vegan Thanksgiving that I hear most often are: It's our tradition and Because it tastes good.

It's our tradition.

Traditions are decided upon. They are consciously, intentionally repeated. And new ones can be created at any moment. I choose to opt out of traditions that cause harm and are the direct result of the exploitation and commodification of beings just like Charles, but who look a little different. And I want Baby Sky to grow up in a home where there is just as much respect for chickens and calves and fishes as there is for greyhounds and cats and people. Of course, the world outside of our home tells a different story. But we can bring our story to that world.

Because it tastes good.

This is a tough one to even dignify as I think it's the most offensive reason for killing someone. In addition, I've never heard it said in anything but a sarcastic or otherwise mocking tone. The conclusion I'm left making is that the person saying "Because it tastes good" thinks that it's funny that a sentient being was raped (in the case of cows), mutilated (chickens, pigs and others) and slaughtered (everyone) because people find them tasty. The other possible explanation is that these people do indeed feel uncomfortable that Because it tastes good is their honest answer. I think that's the case much of the time, but the conversation is too painful and causes so much cognitive dissonance, and sarcasm is the quickest way out of the situation.

Though this Thanksgiving is special for us, it is the opportunity for anybody to decide that this Thanksgiving will be a kindler, gentler, more compassionate one. This Thanksgiving can be a just one: Justice for beings who are like us in the most important of ways. Justice for beings who look very different from us but who, like us, experience pleasure and pain, boredom and frustration. Justice for beings who want to live their lives--who should be able to lives their lives--without being taken from their families and their homes to become a meal. Justice for beings whom we create for the sole purpose of killing, but who nevertheless want to live. We can do many horrible things to them and we can take a lot away from them. But they always have their desire to not be killed.

All it takes is a decision. Decide to choose justice over whatever reason you give for using other animals as food. It might not be easy, given family and societal pressures, but fortunately there are scores of books and websites and podcasts and videos and online vendors--and even restaurants--that can provide guidance (and delicious food). It's never been so easy to have a Just Thanksgiving.

On THE DOG WHO COULDN'T STOP LOVING

When I agreed to read and review Jeffrey Moussaieff Masson's THE DOG WHO COULDN'T STOP LOVING (Harper 2010), the regal Charles Hobson Booger, III was still with us. When it arrived, the day after Charles died, I'll admit to wanting to burn it.

Essentially, I was afraid that the pain would never stop. And the crying would never stop.

But it has lessened some, and I've gained back that five pounds I lost, so I suppose my heart is on the mend. And if it's not, and sometimes I feel it isn't, at least I am able to return to productivity, and even visit Deb's tribute without completely breaking down.

Jeff Masson's new book didn't cause me to unravel, but I did learn a lot about our friends and coevolvers, Canis familiaris. And I received confirmation of something I've known since 2004, when we adopted retired racing greyhound, Violet Rays: That there's sort of a critical period for dog-behavior acquisition, and if it's missed, the dog isn't likely to mature into the type of loving being whose behavior we've come to associate with "pet" dogs.

But let's back up a bit.

This Masson book (here are all of them) is for Benjy, who was supposed to be a service dog but who was, shall we say, less than enthusiastic about the career choice that was made for him. He was adopted by the Masson family and was apparently the most loving dog all who met him had ever had the pleasure of being licked by. Masson tells Benjy's story--and Benjy stories--while explaining his theory about the mutual domestication of dogs and humans. You may know that dog/human coevolution has been a popular topic in the past decade, and if so, this might help: Masson "takes E. O. Wilson's [biophilia] hypothesis and gives it a new twist. Not only have dogs and humans influenced each other for tens of thousands of years, they have done so in far more profound ways than any other two species on earth, and primarily in the direction of acting on the capacity for love in all its different manifestations, such as showing sympathy, feeling empathy, and expressing compassion" (xi).

This coevolution isn't a mere side-by-side existence. The point is that, as Chapter 3 is titled, "Dogs Make Us Human." Masson traces the history of our relationship with dogs, and sprinkles in stories from various cultures that love as well as despise them, and concludes that dogs are more significant to humans than any other animal (39). This includes horses, cats and cows. And he details why. As much as I might love Emily (our kitty), the way Masson sees it, she doesn't love me back in the same way. She's not capable of the kind of love that dogs and humans are capable of for one another--across species. And he presents a pretty compelling argument by basically describing how little regard Emily really has for me and how quickly she'll shred my hand (although she behaves very differently with Baby Sky, interestingly. There's never a claw in sight and she's very patient). However, I have to disagree with page 78's: "Will a cat comfort you when you are sad? He might, but I would not count on it." My experience says otherwise (particularly with my childhood kitty, Brady), but generally speaking Masson's depiction of cats is accurate.

Yes, I wanted to also say to him "Yeah dogs are great, but you didn't see my multi-year relationship with Mr. Magoo, a Muscovy duck who was blind in one eye." But he then addresses that. There are duck stories and elephant stories and pig stories, but the reason we hear about them is because they are extraordinary. The dog's uninhibited, unconditional love of his person/people/maybe even everybody, as in the case of Benjy, is the rule, not the exception. And that concept--and the reason for it--is what drives this book.

(Just a note here: I also think what we the reading public reads about is dictated by what publishers think is worthy. I'd bet that there are far more stories of human/nonhuman, nondog love than we know about. And though the Internet is changing that, part of the reason we all think dogs love us so much is because everyone's always talking about how [most] dogs love us so much, and because we all want to read and hear and watch stories about dogs because that's part of our culture here in the US.)

Our coevolution looked like this: "We reinforced the behavior in one another again and again and again, over many thousands of years, until it was instilled in both species" (55). This is why we aren't anthropomorphizing when we speak of the compassion or love or grief that dogs show. We're not saying they appear to be acting like us; we're saying they're acting like themselves. (And others, such as Marc Bekoff, have also discussed this.)

I'll end with a handful of brief thoughts because this is getting way too long (Baby Sky's been napping and I'm surprised she's still asleep but certain she'll wake any moment):

• There are a couple of potential sore spots for some people in this book, one being the discussion of pit bulls. I don't know enough about pit bulls, however, to say that any part of it is incorrect.
• The fact that if puppies don't get enough love when they are young means they aren't likely to grow into dogs like Benjy explains a lot about greyhounds who are bred, trained and forced to race. Violet Rays raced for over two years, spending her days and nights in a kennel or being transported between South Florida and Oregon, only to be out of her kennel for about two hours per day, and with a muzzle on for that two hours (and maybe even while in the kennel). She exhibits very few characteristics of Benjy, a dog who loves everyone and is ecstatic to do so. Charles, however, who was also bred and trained to race, did so exactly twice. Both times, he refused to leave the gate and he was immediately retired. But because he was with people--and other species of dogs--at a younger age than Violet, he was able to grow into a more dog-like dog.
• We "break" dogs in many ways, training them to race being only one. Masson writes of the slavery of so-called service dogs, and I'm glad he does. 
• He also disagrees with Cesar Millan's claim that we should dominate our dogs.
• Yes, there's a vegan message.

And with that, I hear the beginnings of wakey time on the monitor. Off to Baby Sky's room where, after all of the above, and with plenty of other rooms in the house, I will see none other than Violet Rays and Emily napping next to her crib.

Check out THE DOG WHO COULDN'T STOP LOVING, and let me know where you stand on whether or not dogs make us human.

 

On HIGH IN THE CLOUDS

HIGH IN THE CLOUDS, by Paul McCartney, Geoff Dunbar and Philip Ardagh is supposed to be for Grades 2-4, but its themes, vocabulary and syntax are more advanced.

From Barnes and Noble:

"Wirral the Squirrel is homeless. The evil Gretsch have [sic] destroyed his wilderness home, trampling it in their relentless drive to expand. But Wirral does not despair; he vows to find a new home in Animalia, the fabled land where all creatures are said to live together in freedom. What begins as a personal quest becomes a mission as the brave little acorn-cracker realizes that animals are enslaved everywhere. Sir Paul McCartney, children's book author Geoff Dunbar, and children's book artist Philip Ardagh have created a beautiful book with an ever-timely message."

There's a lot missing in that description, such as the surprising death of Wirral's mother, Sugartail, at the beginning of the book. But if I were to be critical about the narrative of the book, I'd say there's a lot missing there too. For instance, Sugartail's death happens so suddenly and without a lot of explanation. Their home was evidently slated to be bulldozed, and then it was. Done. Me and my doctorate had to reread sections of the book because I kept thinking I overlooked the context or backstory of a handful of details. I even started from the beginning three times because I thought I missed a page or a paragraph.

With that said, the illustrations are wonderful, and the general theme of this adventure story is laudable. This reader would have liked to have seen the story and the characters developed more (and with fewer stereotypes), however. I understand this is a children's book, but particularly if you're trying to be a voice for animals, it would behoove you to make connections that might be missed otherwise. For instance, the animals are enslaved. They are forced to work in factories owned by a hideous woman, Gretsch. Wirral's quest is to free the animals and take them to Animalia, where all animals (and insects, as a flea from a flea circus is a major character, and beetles are mentioned) already are free. But there's no connection made--or no explanation--for how we use animals. Animals are indeed enslaved, but in real life they're not making widgets in factories. And when you read the reviews on various sites that sell the book, there is no mention of how we enslave animals. I don't get a sense that readers really understand the message.

But that's because the message isn't developed. I'm giving the book a vegan/animal rights message because that's my lens. Objectively, however, though the use message is there, believe it or not, you can talk about enslaving animals and still not present a clear vegan message. Or any vegan message. There is no mention of food or skin or zoos. The factory is supposed to be a proxy for all of that, but it doesn't work for me. I wish it did, but it doesn't.

Finally, there's a place over yonder where animals are free (Animalia). And the animals all go there after they are set free. They don't stay where they are (Megatropolis), I think, because humans are destroying it and building cities with evil factories that enslave animals. So there's a pro-environment/anti-development message in the book that, for me, is clearer than the animal rights message. We are destroying their homes, but there's a place where they are free from us. That's a nice message for kids, I guess.

The problem is there isn't really a place they can all go to be free from us, which is why I find the ending strange. I know the ending would have to be a happy one, but rather than mass exodus, how about the animals taking their homes back or . . . something.

I suppose telling young children the details of the enslavement of sentient nonhumans isn't an easy task, and any entree to the discussion is helpful. This book is indeed a way of beginning to discuss what enslavement is and all of the ways we use animals, and for that reason I'll read it to Baby Sky. But probably with plenty of commentary throughout.

 

Is Charles with Lars Axl Fokker?

Charles died a week ago today, and if you haven't seen Deb's tribute, it's a must-see and we're very grateful and humbled by her post as well as all of the e-mails and cards and calls we've received.

In all of the lovely messages we've been getting, I've noticed two trends:

1) Death is a communal experience as well as an individual one. One being dies, but the memories of death and the stories of life are brought to the fore for those who learn of the passing. Charles' untimely death brings to mind everyone's past pain and joy. We share each other's grief, triggered by the most recent death. We aren't alone in missing our beloved companions deeply.

2) Charles is somewhere, or part of him is somewhere, or his essence or his soul is in some place, or some other creature, or maybe even everywhere. Death brings up all of the stories we tell ourselves that help us understand and move through the grief. Charles is looking down on me, Charles' soul is running, Charles is with Lars Axl Fokker (Emily's son, to whom she passed her Feline Infectious Peritonitis, which he suffered from before we euthanized him nearly a decade ago). Charles and Lars had a similar, playful energy, and I must say I like the idea that they're playing together somewhere.

Some people seem to think that animals' souls are different from those of humans, while others think they're the same. Some speak of a collective consciousness, and others speak of reincarnation. There's talk of a spirit, which I'm not sure is different from a soul. Charles is definitely with me in spirit, but I don't know if there is a spirit . . . somewhere.

As an agnostic atheist, I certainly cannot claim to have any idea of what really happened to Charles, other than that he is no longer lying at my feet on the bamboo carpet, and never will again. I would love to think that his soul is lying at my feet, or on my shoulder, or just about anywhere, frankly. I'd love to think that I'll encounter a greyhound in a couple of years who will have a familiar look in his eye and I'll adopt him and care for him until the day he dies, as I did with Charles.

And I would love to think that Charles is now a guardian angel of mine.

I'd love to think that he will come to me in a dream and forgive me for whatever part I might have played in his death.

The idea that he will have a more favorable rebirth is a nice one, though I also like to think that being an animal in my house is about as favorable as you can get.

What do you believe about what occurs after death for our sentient nonhuman companions?

 

--Photo: After an evening of playing with paper and toys on my birthday last year, Charles and I fell asleep.

 

Charles Hobson Booger, III 6/3/03-10/15/10

 

My boyfriend. That's what I called him.

Loverboy, Charles, Charlesez, Gorgeous.

My husband called him Charlie.

He's no longer with us, and our hearts ache.

 

Charles' death was sudden, tragic and avoidable. He had a corn removed Thursday morning, left the vet looking just fine and happy to be rid of the pain, and by 5:00 pm yesterday, after we were told that he had a less than 5% chance of survival with days of intensive treatment, and after consulting friends who are vets, we decided to euthanize him. I curled up with him and held him until the very last moment.

Charles had a horrible final 24 hours, full of pain and suffering, due to a narcotic reaction (Tramadol). Narcotic reactions aren't common, Tramadol reactions aren't common, and greyhounds aren't known for their adverse reactions to Tramadol. Violet doesn't do well with Tramadol, but only because it makes her constipated. That's a far more common problem.

But Charles had a severe reaction. It caused his normally 75 beats-per-minute heart rate to spike to 232 and remain close to there for the rest of his life, and his normally 101 temperature to jump to 105.5, which is pretty much a death sentence if not treated immediately. Attempts to reverse the effects of the Tramadol worked only for a couple of minutes at a time. And, as with a sunburn, the damage caused by a very high fever is done hours before you can see the damage.

So here I am, with a pounding headache and swollen face, having all kinds of guilt and regrets. And above all, missing my boy  . . .

 

 

On Veganism and Adoption

I've been under the radar for a bit, anxiously awaiting the adoption finalization of Baby Sky. But now that she's officially ours, I feel like I can write about a topic that means a lot to me without the fear that my words might somehow jeopardize the adoption.

As someone who was very, very late to the wanting-a-baby party (my desire didn't kick in until almost 40), and who did attempt to have a biological child, I'm particularly qualified to say what I'm about to say.

Marriage/coupleship is composed of two individuals. Adding a child to that partnership is an idea that is so important that I tend to say that people who know that they want kids shouldn't even date people who know that they don't want kids. Such pairings usually don't end well, though they do have a predictable trajectory, with each person either "waiting out" the other person or actively trying to change their mind . . . to no avail.

 

I don't, for the record, consider this issue analogous to omnivores dating vegans, as my husband went vegan overnight three years ago this month. I think vegans dating omnivores is a great idea as it's an opportunity to support someone in a way that you really can't support anyone else. I do the shopping, cooking and baking, and I find vegan accessories for him to choose from. When he travels or goes out with clients, I make suggestions or arrangements for him. This isn't to say he couldn't do all of that himself; it's easy for me and doesn't take much effort or time. The point is that I'm here, paying attention and anticipating needs. In three years my husband hasn't had one episode of backsliding or even the inclination. I can't say what would've happened if his veganization wasn't made so easy--all I can say for certain is that it was successful.

My New Favorite RSA Animate