Sometimes, I’m only human in forgetting that I’m an animal.
When I disconnect from my sacred primal self, not only do I feel bored, I crave creamy comfort foods to nurture me in my dead zone.
Today, during my disconnect with myself, my instant target fix was on butter.
Online, I found Organic Pastures. I was amazed at how wonderful the dairy cows have it there. And their label is so cute with the smiling cow cartoon. I could just eat it up.
Their photo of a calf with its mom is to die for. So heartwarming. So believable.
The Cornucopia Institute gave the dairy farm 5 Cows(Stars), an “outstanding” rating having to do with humane treatment of dairy cows in healthy outdoor green pasture environments.
And get a load of Organic Pasture’s FAQS! They are the only organic raw milk dairy in the country with a 5-Cow rating. Amazing.
How could I resist my insatiable lust for the milk of bovine kindness from these happy cows?
I must rush to the store as fast as I can.
But first, I need the missing facts. (After all, I may be sentimental. But I am not stupid where animals are concerned.)
For starters: What happens to the male calves? And the cows, what’s their fate when they run out of milk after so many forced pregnancies?
I called the farm and spoke to the woman in charge. She was nasty, but honest.
She told me that yes, the male calves are sold to the “calf industry.” And that yes, the industry does send calves directly to slaughter houses, or veal stalls, or stud corrals.
I didn’t get to ask about the fate of the happy cows once they’re ‘used up.’
Needless to say, my butter craving bolted for the high road to redemption.
Cozy again with my animal self, a memory of first noticing two years ago in a store, the illustrated happy cow on Green Pasture’s label came back to me. I remember that my animal intelligence warned me then, that these cows were not happy. No, no, no.
No more than you would be happy if someone snatched your male newborn from you and trucked him to a slaughter house, or bull pen before slaughter, or to a short life barely surviving being literally chained to a veal stall. Poor baby.
Amazing what our human minds can persuade us to do when we disconnect from our sacred animal selves. Killing becomes easy. Suffering even easier to inflict.
The vegan way of honoring all life always outweighs whatever excuse we come up with to justify the suffering of our animal relatives.
So why do I write about things just about everyone doesn’t “give a rat’s butt about?”
My passion for the happiness and survival of all life, earth’s included – not just our and our pets’ lives – makes me do it.