Several days ago, KSDK in St. Louis broadcast breaking news about a fire at a meat market in St. Libory, Illinois. The reporter mentioned that while no people were injured, twenty hogs perished in the fire. Like that was a tragedy. I find it ironic. Maybe. I'm still not real clear on that whole irony issue. But the fact is that some hogs died. Hogs that would have been butchered if they lived, because, HELLO this is a freakin' meat market! I guess some people will boohoo that the hogs died in the fire. Because they're so much more dead than if they were stunned and bled in order to make delicious bacon and ham.
Likewise, I can't understand how people decide that it's okay to eat Bossy and Billy and Miss Prissy and Porky and Bugs and Thumper and Donald, but not okay to eat Spot and Fluff and Mr. Ed.
And even though I have five cats, I find the following T-shirt amusing: I love cats. I just can't eat a whole one by myself.