My maternal grandfather was a butcher. And my mother grew up in his butcher shop. She saw animals slaughtered. She saw how they extracted lard. And how they made sausage. She would reflect on those days. And the horror of it all.
And I got a glimpse of that sort of thing, too. In the small Wisconsin town where I grew up. As a teen-ager, I worked at a store on Main Street. Next to the meat market. Farmers brought their live animals in for slaughter. I heard the squeals of the pigs and cows...frightened and in pain. It bothers me now that I eat the flesh of animals. Really, it's not the right thing to do. --Jim Broede
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Jim---I am a dyed in the wool carnivore and I am not the least bit ashamed of that fact.
When I was a child my grandmother raised chickens both for their eggs and as a source of meat. The chickens were allowed freedom of movement within a large fenced in area and offered the shelter of the hen house. When their egg laying days were ending or their numbers became too high for the area... they were ‘humanely’ slaughtered.
The lives lead by animals destined to become human food and the inhumane manner that they are slaughtered are things that I have problems justifying. That any creature is raised totally confined, unable to see the light of day or feel the wind saddens me. If I had a bit more money...I would buy all of my meat from local farms that allow their stock to live and die with some degree of dignity.
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