Boundaries

I had a thought in regards to this post. Yes, a real thought. Unfortunately thinking isn't my strong point just now, so it may be that I just introduce the thought today and then play with it a bit more another time.

And why isn't thinking my strong point? Well, in yesterday's post when I was talking about causes for more than one headache day in a row it seems that I forgot option C.

And what is option C?

Oh, you'll likely be finding out in the next few days. I'm not usually very good at keeping a whinge-worthy topic to myself, after all.

Anyway, let's talk about the post title before I run out of...








Kidding. Sort of.

What I'm interested in here is an opinion or several. We had fish for supper last night, and it occurred to me that it's a little odd to eat fish and then go down and admire the brainless wonders living in the tank downstairs. It's a weird sort of boundary, don't you think? That is, the fact that we can so easily separate pet fish (otherwise known in my world as decor) from dinner and not have many qualms about it. How different was last night's haddock from the monstrous koi than managed to barely poke its nose into today's pointless photo, really?

Let's take it a little further. If you had a pet chicken, would you still be able to visit KFC?

Some people would start to develop a little queasiness at the thought, I think. So what makes a chicken different from a fish? Besides the feathers, I mean. I suppose a chicken could be considered more intelligent than a fish, and possibly more aware of its existence (although that's already getting into pretty dicey territory, if you ask me). So does that give it more right to not be a meal?

Please note that I'm not making any sort of vegetarian argument here. If that's your choice in life, well, good on you. It doesn't happen to be mine. What I'm more interested in is the border between food and companion.

A chicken could be a companion, although I wouldn't consider the ones I've had dealings with for any sort of friendship. I know there are people out there who are very fond of their chickens, though. Are they still able to manage scarfing down a Sunday roast?

At what point does guilt start poking a person in the side?

Ok, let's go another step. Would you eat a dog? Most people in my part of the world would very quickly say NO!!! here. But dogs are perfectly edible. Many people in many cultures do eat dogs. And in some of those cultures the dogs are also considered pets. So how does one deal with that particular dichotomy?

I live in cattle country. I don't think many would argue with me that cattle are for eating (whether we're talking beef or dairy, we're still using those animals for food). But a lot of 4-H members have had the experience of hand-raising calves. They become extremely close with those animals, believe me. They take as much care of them as an urbanite would of a favoured cat. Right down to the grooming, yes. The calves are shown for prizes, and then they're auctioned.

They aren't bought by petting zoos, folks.

So how does a person care for and about an animal knowing full well that one day it will be on someone's plate (in pieces. It's hard to have a whole cow on your plate.)?

This is the part where I mention that I don't have any answers. I rarely do, you know. And my two fans know that the more questions I ask in a post, the less likely I am to come to any sort of conclusion.

This would definitely be one of those posts.

I'm done typing now. It's time to take the dog out.



Yeah, I thought I was done with that, too. SURPRISE!...


sigh.



Oh, one more thing. Wake up, t.v. club. This is your official warning that it's actually a wine gum week for a change.

Should I explain that sometime, do you think?