I just finished “There Will Be Chicken Blood,” an article in Slate. It is about an urban farmer and her experiences with killing chickens. I found it made me a bit squeamish, and very aware of my life as an urban dweller. I really do have a hard time with the facts of life.
Whenever I watch animal shows, I never know who to root for. Is it better to cheer on the lion that is about to take down an antelope to feed her hungry babies, or should I fervently pray that the antelope escapes by some miracle leaving those beautiful lion cubs without dinner?
It is truly a hard question for me to answer. Hubby laughs at my horrified, eye-covering reaction to life. I tend to agree with him, I am being silly. It is a part of life, and there is very little we can do to change that. There is no way that we are ever going to train those adorable baby lions to be vegetarian. So why is it that it makes me so squeamish?
For more on my urban vs. nature thoughts: