More Excuseavores

The author seems earnest enough when she proudly takes responsibility for the meat on her table and credits the dead pig for helping her in her “journey as both a meat eater and an animal lover.”  In the end, it really is all about us, isn’t it. But what might Eddie have preferred? Thanks, respect, and a bullet of betrayal–or to continue living his life? Why is it so hard to understand that sentient animals–all of us–value our lives? That you’ve been thanked and never saw it coming just doesn’t seem like a square deal.

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