Vegetarian on the road to veganism!

I will document my struggle for my one follower (thanks Kris!), and anyone else who happens to discover my blog. First, let me explain my vegetarian lifestyle because it happened so long ago in my formative years.

I am a HUGE animal lover, and always have been. I don't ever recall a time in my life when I was without a pet, even when we lived in "no pets allowed" apartments. Let's see, we had dogs, cats, hamsters, guinea pigs, mice, fish, birds, snakes, toads, and a raccoon! I can recall each of these pets, and probably have a few good stories about them, but I won't bore you with them! I will say that I used to walk my pet hamster Houdini on a tiny leash, specifically made for hamsters. I probably bought it the same day I got the plastic ball for her to roll around in. You may be wondering about the raccoon? Well, one day my Dad comes home saying he has a surprise for me, and it was a baby raccoon! We named him Wylie. Apparently, my Dad was driving and saw a dead mama raccoon, that was probably hit by a car, and two baby raccoons near her dead body. My Dad collected them, gave one to his buddy, and took the other home. Oh my, was he the cutest thing! He was bottle-fed, and litter box trained and we eventually released him on my grandparents property in Pascoag. They had lots of woods, and a pond where he caught crayfish all day. We saw him when we visited too, we just called him and he would come climbing down a tree, and we'd play with him until we left. I think he may have done some damage to their roof, at some point trying to get in the house, but eventually he found love and never returned. Sorry I hope that didn't bore you, I digress.... My Dad has a lot to do with my being a vegetarian. Despite my despising him for most of my life, he had a lot to do with the person I am today, and for that I am grateful. He was a very proud Marine, and Vietnam Veteran that entered as a boy (17 years old when he first enlisted), and had to become a man too quickly. He was awarded the Purple Heart because he was wounded in combat. To cope with PTSD and life, he abused alcohol, and eventually became a full-blow alcoholic, and not a very nice one. I think he lacked a few essential people skills, and a good education which is probably why he ended up doing what he did. He worked in a slaughterhouse. He was the one that had to kill live animals on a daily basis....I think he did mostly cows and pigs. He did this on the side too for buddies, and got paid in meat. My not growing up on a farm, or in the country, and being a "city slicker" as my Dad liked to call me, he wanted to make sure I knew where meat came from. And it is not the supermarket! I will not tell you about the time he brought home a cow fetus, or a hairball.... this post is long enough!

Seeing him come home wearing blood, and seeing a few pictures of carcasses hung from his workplace was enough for me to swear off eating meat. I felt so much empathy for those animals, and every time I would look at my dinner plate all I could see was an animal that had suffered. I remember my Dad saying that at least when he killed he would put a bullet to it's brain first, instead of just slitting their throats like some of the others. Well, really? That didn't console me much. Now I am not saying that from then on I never ate meat. On the contrary. I definitely had my weaknesses, and bacon being one of them. I think I was once quoted as saying "pork fat rules". Speaking of pig, I recall a time when I was about 6-7 and I got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, and I slipped and fell on pig shit! My Dad was holding a pig in our bathroom (we lived in a 3rd floor apartment) to save him a trip because he was killing it the next day (and no, not in the house!). I will never, ever forget that night! So when I declared that I was no longer eating meat, my Dad forbade me. He forbade me from being a vegetarian! I guess it was an insult to his "profession". I probably just gave my portion to my brother, or dropped it on the floor for the cats. Either way I didn't eat meat for awhile, but there are specific meat eating moments I recall as clear as yesterday; bacon pizza at Pizza Hut in the Lincoln Mall when I was in Junior High, eating the Hickory Farms Beef Stick on the bus ride home from the Lincoln Mall, the skin of the turkey at Thanksgiving. I guess my real weakness is grease, not meat. OH, WAIT! When I was pregnant with my first daughter I ordered a bacon cheeseburger at D'Angelo's, and went to The Pines a few times for the Black Diamond steak....what a mother does for her child. I thought I was having Rosemary's baby!

So let's back-track a bit. I was definitely a full-blown vegetarian in my late high school days and college years. Then I met my now husband in 1997. He was a meat-eater, and not picky at all and I eventually started eating fish, chicken, and ground turkey....blessing my food always and thanking it profusely for it's sacrifice (I am a recovering Catholic). I'm sure I rationalized it some how. Fish don't have feelings, birds are dumb, and I need my protein. I still couldn't eat cow if you paid me (or I got pregnant lol). Now fast forward to about 3 years ago. My husband came home and said that he doesn't think he can eat meat anymore! I was like, what? Why? Then he said, "You got to me, finally." When actually, he went to lunch that day, ordered a steak sandwich, and it was too much flesh for is liking. He was turned off ever since. And so I slid quite comfortably back into my vegetarian lifestyle.

However, I am now still cooking those damn chicken nuggets, and hotdogs for my kids. This is a dilemma of sorts, I guess. I, like my father, make sure they know what they are eating, and when they finally get it, my meal time will hopefully be less chaotic....one can only hope.

Down the road I go, and it isn't easy but it is a choice I must make. If my main motivation is to end animal suffering, or not take part in it, then I must admit that the dairy industry is just as bad if not worse than the meat industry. Think about it. The Mama Cow, we'll call her Bessie, gets pregnant, has a calf, and it is taken from her. If the calf is a male it is turned into veal, if it is a female it too becomes part of the milk production industry. They do not live their lives happily, they are simply exploited for their product that we are so dependent on. It's not like the old days where they graze in vast pastures on nice farms. Agriculture is now industrial to feed the masses. That means high production, which means messing with Nature, using hormones and steroids. When the cow is no longer producing babies or milk, she is slaughtered like the rest, by someone worse than my father. I can only imagine how desensitized these people must be to have to kill on a daily basis for a paycheck. There is a lot of information out there. This industry is also the biggest polluter, and the numbers are staggering. All the feed we feed the cattle, could feed the world... I am not making this up. People choose ignorance, but I can't do that any more. I am putting my grilled cheese down.

I am not on a soap box, and I am not trying to get anyone to be like me. I am simply putting it out there so that I will have more motivation and accountability to follow through. I know it won't be easy, but I hope that once I detox, I will no longer crave the melted stuff, full of pus that came from a Bessie that was raped of her child.

Peace, Love, and Veganase
Stacie