Bambi is Venison

It takes the wildman in me to accept some of what goes down everywhere.
The wildman accepts the lion that eats the antelope.
The antelope accepts the grass that is eaten.
The grass that is eaten by the antelope
devours the earth and rain with abandon.

Would the turkey breast meat I consumed this morning on a bagel, compressed and deli-sliced to appear like ham, be any happier if it was from a pig rather than a bird? Do I feel better about eating range-free fed sirloin steak than veal? Do I feel better about the eggs, from range free hens, I ate this morning too?

If all the people who oppose guns would accept that a hunter is on a higher moral plane than those who by their meat wrapped and packaged already butchered out of their sight then they might have a point.

We are animals that eat animals. Bambi is venison and Porky Pig makes for good sausage. Should I then feel guilty that Charlie the Tuna wants to be eaten?

Children should write the Animal Bill of Rights.

A child at the zoo asked, as we paused at the cage where the chimps were housed, "What did he do wrong to go to jail?"
"He just got caught."
"Is it wrong to get caught?"
"Yes."
"Oh, I get it. That's why my dad is in prison. He just got caught."