ANIMAL EMOTIONS

            I don't read every comment on my blogs, but definitely see most of them and I'm always, always, always grateful for the feedback.  I'm convinced that I'm cultivating some of the most thoughtful, sincere-minded conversations in this space and am delighted with the level of communication. 

             In that vein, I want to respond to Adam yesterday who admitted to struggling with eating animals that have emotions.  Every one of us livestock farmers deals with these conversations today and has to either decide if we're unloving murderers or benevolent health providers.  That's a pretty stark divide.

             Fortunately, research and data are definitely catching up on the environmental and health benefits.  What's lagging is the ethical issue.  Have you seen the music-backgrounded video of slugs making love?  Somebody sent it to me several years back and I was mesmerized by the apparent ecstasy and slimy caress of the slugs' lovemaking choreography.  It went on and on, too.  Not quick like a cow and a bull.  You want a quickie, watch rabbits get it on.  About 5 seconds, tops.

             Is cognitive function equal to emotions?  We know that plants think; they respond to stimuli with pheromone excretions, tilt, and growth.  They have both attractants and defensive mechanisms that they activate with cognitive discretion.  Is that emotion?

             Let's move from plants and slugs to cows.  Every birth in nature receives nurturing, whether it's a calf or a nest of salmon.  Parents naturally prepare and protect offspring; is that emotion, or cognitive response to survival instincts?  Anyone who has been around animals knows that they have different personalities.  From pets to chickens, some are timid, some are bullies.

             But I've never, ever, ever seen a group of pigs hold a discussion like this:  "You know, that little pig there needs some extra feed and attention.  How about we big guys hold back when Farmer Joel fills the feeder, and let little piggy there get his fill before we jump in."   Never saw it happen.  Cows don't.  Chickens don't.  In fact, trees are hopelessly competitive and combative when it comes to sharing sunlight and forest space.

             Only humans have the capacity to hold back and offer a helping hand to the disadvantaged and disabled.  Animals don't carry their wounded to a rehab center.  No big cow steps aside for a calf--their own or another's.  It's all selfish.  That doesn't mean that a cow doesn't coo to her calf, or a mother hen cluck to her chicks.  It may be cognition and survival, but it's not human-scale emotion.  It's mere survival and parental protection.  While animals do show an ability to carry family groupings for generations, is that because they've created an agreement or is it simply instinctual attraction to similar DNA?

             I don't have all the answers, but I know that as I've wrestled with these same issues, I find that as soon as I head down the no death path at any level, any level, it leads me to slugs, plants, and eventually earthworms and microbes and finally my instructions to my family:  "when I die, just throw me in the compost pile."

             The no-death message is untenable both spiritually and practically.  In fact, once I completely reconciled with this truth, it bolstered the notion that enlivened living comes from sacrifice.  Indeed, sacrificial leadership is a perfect example of death rejuvenated in life.  Perhaps it's time to appreciate that true living comes from dying to self. 

             Can you think of any famous leader who did not practice self-sacrifice?