Animal Sacredness, in Response to a Comment

[Photo by Wan]

A good friend of mine commented on my post here, and so I'm posting my answer here. Here was the comment:

Mmm. What's your feelings on people's treatment of cockroaches when they don't go with the decor? :) Where does one draw the sacredness line on life?

I decide daily which lives around me will live, die, and how, and there's nothing anyone can really say about my choices without appealing to a Greater Principle.

Which is what ACS does daily, deciding whether a puppy should die rather than live a few months as a commodity.

Right?

Ok, first off, I admit that cockroaches rarely match one's decor. :) I think there are several issues to consider here. First, I think prevention is of utmost importance. There are recommendations out there that will help you prevent insect infestation. Proper prevention can go a long way toward eliminating having to make this decision at all. However, that's not always enough. So in the cases in which you find yourself living with a few cockroach friends, here are my thoughts.

Ideally, in the case of any unwanted house guest, one would do one's best to remove the guest without causing undue injury, releasing the animal outside. Unfortunately, cockroaches generally preclude this possibility. We all share this planet; but just as we would not be welcome in a lion pride's territory, cockroaches are generally unwelcome in our homes. Therefore, I understand the need to have them exterminated. However, I don't think that when we have to resort to extermination, we are necessarily drawing the line on sacredness of life at all. I admit that it is impossible not to kill every day. Every day in my life, I squish millions of small organisms as I walk. But in no way am I intending for this to happen. As a matter of fact, if it were up to me, I would go far out of my way to avoid killing any of them.

Just the other day, I was at the beach and there was this fly who kept landing on me. But it was the strangest thing—he woudn't fly away when I waved my hand at him, like most flies. He just stood there and let me touch him. I put my finger down, and he crawled onto it. I've honestly never seen anything like it before. After a while, he left, and I continued reading my book. A few minutes later I felt a tickle and I unconsciously swatted. Immediately, I realized what I had done, and I looked down and saw my little fly friend walking toward the shade with his right wing bent unnaturally back. A wave of sorrow and regret flooded over me for my lack of mindfulness. I had lost my concentration and swatted unconsciously, and it was 100% my fault that I injured the most peaceful fly I'd ever met. As he walked toward the shade, I remembered he would let me touch him. So I reached down and gently brushed his wing back to its normal position. It went back! But he continued walking toward the shade and, when he reached it, he just sat there. I felt sooo bad, just watching this fly. If he couldn't fly, he was going to die. I, honestly, could not go back to my book. I just sat there watching this fly. After about 3 minutes, he flew off! I was so relieved! That experience taught me a lot.

Back to our cockroach issue. If your house is infested, you have no choice but to exterminate them. They won't leave of their own accord, you cannot capture and release them (there's too many!), and they can impair your health. Thus, you have no choice. But there are an infinite number of mental states that can drive your decision to exterminate them. Many people, I expect, will simply call the exterminator without a second thought, and be glad that the roaches are dead. This view, I argue, is a case in which one does not view cockroach life as sacred. Me, personally, I would make that call with a heavy heart, and would be very sad at their death. I would perform my daily meditations keeping them in mind, wishing them well in their next lives. In my view, roaches are sacred, and I would treat them as such.

My friend said:

I decide daily which lives around me will live, die, and how, and there's nothing anyone can really say about my choices without appealing to a Greater Principle.

Yes, you do make those choices. But I'm not sure what you mean when you say there's nothing anyone can say about your choices without appealing to a Greater Principle. If you are trying to say something about a judgement of the ethics, or lack thereof, surrounding your actions, then that's something too long to handle in this post, but suffice it to say that such an article is already in the works. However, if you mean something else, I'm not following.

My friend said:

Which is what ACS does daily, deciding whether a puppy should die rather than live a few months as a commodity. Right?

Actually, no, not in the manner in which I think you are speaking. ACS will never euthanize an animal that is adoptable. What this means is that they will euthanize when an animal is very ill and is not going to recover, which in my view is a compassionate act. They will also euthanize an animal if it was, for instance, trained as a fighting dog and was not responding to rehabilitation, and was thus very dangerous to be around. That's it. Therefore, I don't think that what ACS does is "deciding whether a puppy should die rather than live a few months as a commodity." I think they do their utmost to keep animals alive and happy, and will resort to euthanasia only in the most extreme circumstances.

Thanks for the thought-provoking comment!

Technorati Tags: animals, Anti-Cruelty Society, sacred

Frightening Encounter at the Anti-Cruelty Society

[Photo by Nicci]

My fiance told me this story over dinner this evening.

The Anti-Cruelty Society (ACS), where she volunteers, had a dog-washing fundraiser today, at which Jen was volunteering. The ACS has an attached parking garage, and after the dog-washing event, she and several other volunteers were taking the elevator down from the upper levels to the main floor when a woman who had just parked got on. She said she was to meet her daughter there, who was hoping to adopt a dog that day. Once the woman discovered that she was surrounded by volunteers, she asked them a question: "What is your return policy?"

To their credit, the volunteers handled the situation well, explaining that if the puppy became ill, she could obtain free vet care through ACS for the first 15 or so days after adoption. They also explained that, if something was truly problematic for her daughter with her new family member, ACS prefers that she return the dog to them rather than just releasing it or giving it away to somebody else. However, they diplomatically and subtly emphasized that having to return the dog was frowned upon because it, more often than not, signified an owner who was not serious about living with a pet.

I am appalled. And, as I found out from Jen, so were the volunteers. While of course there is a chance that, even with the most careful screening and love, a dog might be destructive or dangerous and not respond to training. In these instances, bringing the dog back to ACS is understandable. However, the woman's question belies her misshapen view of animals as commodities. You return a purse or a shirt or a stereo because something's wrong with it or you end up not wanting it. You don't "return" a fellow animal. Who among you would ask your doctor just after giving birth if you could give the baby away if you didn't like it or if it was too much work?

There are highly related questions that ARE appropriate and important to ask, such as, "What do we do if the dog becomes ill shortly after adoption?" or "What if he's having a behavioral issue that I am having trouble dealing with?" These questions are good to ask before adoption, and are coming from a mental state of love for the animal because they are focused on solutions for common problems—ACS can tell you about their vet care or about training options.

What worries me further is that the treatment of non-human animals as commodities is a pretty common view—Jen told me that she had read that a statistically significant number of people have given up their pets of several years to shelters with the reason, "She doesn't match our decor anymore." (sorry, I don't have a source link for this; it's hearsay)

We need greater educational systems in place to teach people the true value of life: non-human life is no less sacred than human life. This broad statement has many subtle implications and sub-points, and I can immediately think of a number of arguments that people I know would put forth to argue this point. That's a topic for another post. For now, just give some thought to our treatment of non-humans. Generally speaking, if you wouldn't do it to your own child, then you probably shouldn't do it to your dog or cat or ferret.

Technorati Tags: Anti-Cruelty Society, animals, treatment, abuse

Happy Birthday Sable

Today, June 1st, is Sable's 9th birthday! Sable is the brown dog on the right. My parents got Sable when I was 21 and just finishing my undergraduate degree. We had been making weekly trips to the Anti-Cruelty Society looking for a dog, and on one trip, they had just received a litter of Chow-mix puppies. If you've ever adopted a dog, you know that the puppies go fast. We singled out two puppies and, after playing with them for a few minutes, chose Sable. When we brought her home, she wasn't tall enough to jump up from the grass in the backyard onto the 6-inch elevated wooden deck. Now, and this may not be obvious from the picture, she's 90 pounds, and quite capable of leaping up a 6-inch step. And as the picture shows, the Chow in her appears to be a recessive trait. The black spot on her tongue is the primary evidence of that lineage. The dog on the left is Onyx, an 80 pound part-Newfoundland. Sable, Onyx, and Sasha, my parents' third dog, can be seen enjoying themselves here, at the Bark in the Park, a fund-raising walk for ACS.

Happy Birthday Sable! You're the Best Dog!

Technorati Tags: sable, dog, birthday, Anti-Cruelty Society, Bark in the Park