When I became a vegan years ago I eventually lost all ability to think rationally. It’s just the way I’m built–some screwed up serotonin levels or something. Let’s just say I was intense. At first I felt so light and guilt-free as a vegan, but it didn’t stop there. I wore leather boots and used fossil fuel and had the stray plastic container in the cabinet–my toothbrush was plastic and I began to really hate life.
After a brush with death, a gigantic loss of blood and some worried doctors urging me to eat the Wendy’s burger one of them ran out to get me, I ate meat. My mood improved and life went on–until we bought some land and decided to make cheese. In my fantasy world the milk would flow for years after a few cute little kids came along. But no. The cute little kids come along EVERY year. There comes a point when you can’t feed all of the animals and have to sell them–or kill them and eat them.
Obviously I knew this all along but when you go food shopping you don’t have to deal with it. You pay more attention to the cart with the wobbly wheel than to the memory of the disgusting mistreatment of animals you witnessed watching Food Inc
A few weeks back we spoke with a very kind, very decent cheese maker who suggested we throw our two bucklings in with his bunch. Our friend had tried for years to find homes for the little guys but couldn’t keep his business going feeding all of them and even selling them at a loss. Now a mysterious man comes and takes the babies and raises them for goat meat for the ethnic markets. Our friend was like, “I don’t know how he does it–I don’t want to know.” I understood exactly but when we got home I cried for our two bucklings.
In the end here’s what we’ve decided: We’ll keep the boys and try to give them away as pets if someone is willing to bottle-feed them. But if no one comes along we’ll name them and raise them and love them with the lucky does and one day we’ll eat them. Every day will be good until that one last day. It sucks to be a guilty sinner, but then even vegans can’t escape contributing to death or dying themselves. What a weird world we live in.