Content warning to follow for response to emotional appeal and for unrepentant animal execution.
I grew up on a small dairy farm (~40 head) that kept a handful of beef cattle. I spent more time with the dairy herd- they’re a lot safer and the need to milk them every day means they get more of a farmhand’s attention- but I’ve got some pretty fond memories of moving the beef cows from pasture to pasture. We named one Chief, who always pushed to be first in line, and another Teriyaki because of an odd auburn patch on his flank. When I was studying a part for a play, I used to balance on part of their fence while reciting my lines and Washington would usually mill around near me. He’d do that for anyone who was saying literally anything as long as your voice hadn’t dropped, and sometimes when cleaning the stalls I’d make up stories to tell him. I never figured out why, but Washington’s manure was always fairly compact and dry for a cow, which made mucking his stall much easier.
Washington was also the first animal larger than a mouse I ever killed. It’s easier than you’d think. He didn’t even realize something was wrong about being lead into a back room he’d never been in before, he just followed Chief in and then stood around placidly when we blocked the exit Chief had just left through. We got everything set up (a ton of animal can be dangerous if it just falls uncontrolled) and the adults offered to let me do it. Killing did not feel like some special magic or momentous occasion. The rest of the afternoon was educational even though I only watched, since you want to butcher and clean an animal as soon as you can. When we ate the first meal made out of Washington we included him in the prayer before the meal, mentioned our favourite stories about him and that we were glad he lived and glad he would fuel our lives and that he had made way for another creature to live the good life he did.
My opinion? Steak is delicious.
Chief and Teriyaki probably remembered Washington, but I highly doubt any of that knowledge passed on to his successor Glaucon even though there was overlap in their lives. Washington would be dead by now anyway- I was maybe twelve at the time we ate him- and what remains is the memories I have, and the shared family he has from nephews and so on being raised in the same way now. This is what I mean by patterns of thought- my great grandfather is dead, but since I’ve read his journal and heard stories about him from my father and grandmother, not every piece of him is gone. Odd phrases, family recipes, habits of thought, weird but cherished stories, these float alongside DNA down the generations. If every cow died tomorrow, humans would remember them for at least a thousand years. If every human died tomorrow, cows wouldn’t remember us beyond a generation.
I’ll read whatever you write in response to this, but I don’t think there’s much more to be gained from this conversation. You’ve moved from asking for perspectives to attempting to persuade via abstract means to attempting to persuade via emotional means, and while I don’t begrudge you for that, I do think it’s a sign neither of us are going to make any more headway.
Content warning to follow for response to emotional appeal and for unrepentant animal execution.
I grew up on a small dairy farm (~40 head) that kept a handful of beef cattle. I spent more time with the dairy herd- they’re a lot safer and the need to milk them every day means they get more of a farmhand’s attention- but I’ve got some pretty fond memories of moving the beef cows from pasture to pasture. We named one Chief, who always pushed to be first in line, and another Teriyaki because of an odd auburn patch on his flank. When I was studying a part for a play, I used to balance on part of their fence while reciting my lines and Washington would usually mill around near me. He’d do that for anyone who was saying literally anything as long as your voice hadn’t dropped, and sometimes when cleaning the stalls I’d make up stories to tell him. I never figured out why, but Washington’s manure was always fairly compact and dry for a cow, which made mucking his stall much easier.
Washington was also the first animal larger than a mouse I ever killed. It’s easier than you’d think. He didn’t even realize something was wrong about being lead into a back room he’d never been in before, he just followed Chief in and then stood around placidly when we blocked the exit Chief had just left through. We got everything set up (a ton of animal can be dangerous if it just falls uncontrolled) and the adults offered to let me do it. Killing did not feel like some special magic or momentous occasion. The rest of the afternoon was educational even though I only watched, since you want to butcher and clean an animal as soon as you can. When we ate the first meal made out of Washington we included him in the prayer before the meal, mentioned our favourite stories about him and that we were glad he lived and glad he would fuel our lives and that he had made way for another creature to live the good life he did.
My opinion? Steak is delicious.
Chief and Teriyaki probably remembered Washington, but I highly doubt any of that knowledge passed on to his successor Glaucon even though there was overlap in their lives. Washington would be dead by now anyway- I was maybe twelve at the time we ate him- and what remains is the memories I have, and the shared family he has from nephews and so on being raised in the same way now. This is what I mean by patterns of thought- my great grandfather is dead, but since I’ve read his journal and heard stories about him from my father and grandmother, not every piece of him is gone. Odd phrases, family recipes, habits of thought, weird but cherished stories, these float alongside DNA down the generations. If every cow died tomorrow, humans would remember them for at least a thousand years. If every human died tomorrow, cows wouldn’t remember us beyond a generation.
I’ll read whatever you write in response to this, but I don’t think there’s much more to be gained from this conversation. You’ve moved from asking for perspectives to attempting to persuade via abstract means to attempting to persuade via emotional means, and while I don’t begrudge you for that, I do think it’s a sign neither of us are going to make any more headway.
Nice talking to you, and have a good day :)
A great perspective from personal experience. Well recounted.