On My Ambivalence About Keeping Animals
Charles’ collar and the small gate on the courtyard symbolize the same concept for me: He is trapped.
Sure, his life was worse at the home of the people who returned him to the adoption group. They left him kenneled for 12-14 hours during the day and ran with him for 30 minutes each night. He was put back in his kennel for the night.
And that was (arguably) better than being at the track, where he was kenneled for 22 hours a day, probably with a muzzle, and "turned out" a couple of times to relieve himself, usually while running.
But at my home, beautiful as it may be, and where he doesn’t even have a kennel and has four beds of his own throughout the house (as does Violet), he still isn’t in control of his life. He pees when I decide to walk him or let him out back. He eats when I decide to feed him, and when he goes for a walk or run, he must wear a collar and a leash. I must admit to the reality that I dominate him.
Imagine having a collar around your neck. Imagine someone walking you. Yanking–if you go in a direction undesirable for the person "in charge" of you. Pulling–if you sniff or nibble on some grass for more time than they want you to. Imagine someone is walking you and you see one of your kind across a village green. All you want to do is go to that person and say hi and acknowledge your shared situation, but you’re tugged away as you look back and cry out to your brother.
Imagine wearing a collar all day and night.
I don’t even wear my wedding band unless I’m leaving the house and
going to a meeting or to dinner. I can’t stand the feeling of
anything remotely constraining. That’s probably why Charles and Violet
don’t wear collars in the house. I bought them, along with tags, and I
understand why they need to wear them (you know, if they bolt when my
concrete house somehow catches fire), but most of the time I simply
can’t stand the idea of putting them on. And the same is true for
Emily, who drew a fair amount of blood from my hand when I tried to put
her pretty new collar around her neck.
All three animals are dependent on me, and though I didn’t breed
them and I wish the breeding of all animals by humans would stop
immediately, this is what I choose to do in the meantime. I choose to
rescue and care for cats and dogs with the hope that someday I won’t be
in this position anymore, as it’s fraught with moments that make me
feel terrible about keeping sentient nonhumans in my home, even though
the alternative would have been worse for them. And it must be said
that the keeping of sentient beings involves compromises of all kinds,
particularly when I examine what it takes to produce their supplements,
food and medication. But when you specifically request a special-needs
animal whom no one wants, you have to be prepared for compromise. Lots
of it.
Lee Hall recently wrote (and the connection will become clear after the first paragraph):
On a small scale,
this is the case with me and the animals I’ve offered shelter. I buy
them commercial food, and sometimes medicines, sold in too much
packaging material from corporations I want nothing to do with, from
malls built on the land that once belonged to free animals. I clean up,
and the waste has to go somewhere. I offer the cats physical space: a
bigger patch of Earth than I’d otherwise need. I don’t consume animals,
which helps contain my ecological footprint, and yet I’m walking the
planet with an entourage of animals. As individuals, I love them. But I
don’t believe they should have come into the world to depend on me. . .
.
The animals I live with are all
trapped–by me. For that reason, I have a difficult time calling them
"pets" or "companion animals." I offer them a home and try to meet
their needs as best I can while not allowing them to be free. At least
two of them would be dead in several days or less without me, and I
understand that because we have domesticated certain animals we have an
obligation to care for them. But that doesn’t make it any easier for me.
Awesome post – I totally identify with this. I think of our vegan cat friends as ambassadors from cat land – my equals, visitors, refugees of the "pet" industry (we adopted all three of them off the streets in our neighborhood). I hate the indignities we have to heap on them – the scary vet visits, the boring food and environment (it can never get interesting or varied enough for a cat, never!). It's a very peculiar position to be in, as an anti-speciesist…
I too have a trapped non-human animal family member: http://imagehost.vendio.com/a/7757532/aview/midas.jpg
Midas is half blind, deaf and arthritic. He too lingers by the courtyard gate – in a safe "prison" of sorts that I must confine him to. For 18 years he's been subject to my needs, my schedule. When I do or don't feel like a walk, playing or affection – That is the "price" he's paid by not being "exterminated". I am remorseful that his life ever was – and yet, so grateful for every graced day that he's still here.
Don't be so hard on yourself…. we did not make these animals – That said, it doesn't make it any easier on me either.
I wish that everyone would read this article by Lee Hall. It is a fine piece of writing and touches important points for all to think about seriously. Lee Hall puts the ecofeminist notion of the 'ethics of care' into context and looks at it through a rights-based lens. BTW, Francione does the same in his new book, Animals As Persons. Its a bit unfortunate I suppose that, as individuals, Francione and Hall are talking past one another at present.
Interestingly, I find Lee Hall's piece useful for its answer to some of Francione's critics, especially perhaps those influenced by David Sztybel who has an obsessive hatred of Francione (his blog http://sztybel.tripod.com/blog.html should be regarded as "a stalk"). Many people wrongly accuse Francione of being opposed to 'doing' welfare because he's opposed to legal welfarism. Critics often believe Francione would leave animals suffering in the here and now, whereas he rightly suggests that the very best anyone can do for animals anytime is go vegan and encourage others to do the same. Lee Hall does a good job explaining how one can be opposed to animal welfarism as expressed by corporate welfarists such as PeTA and yet still be involved in sanctuary support http://www.abolitionistapproach.com/?p=18 and the care for nonhuman animal refugees.
RY
I really like this post.
Whenever I groom Floyd I get angry at breeders and at the notion of 'pets.' It's not his fault he was made to be a poodle with hair in his ears that must be removed, hair in his paws that must be removed, hair everywhere that gets matted and must be removed. It's not his fault his skin is sensitive and it's not his fault he spent his first four or five years matted and neglected. He hates it when I run the clippers across his paws. He trusts me and he loves me, but he hates it. I've tried bringing him to groomers, but they say they have to muzzle him, he hates it that much. I don't have to muzzle him. We trust each other. (Besides, I give him some peanut butter.) But I feel so terrible for him. It's not his fault he was born into this life of slavery with these physical features that require human intervention.
I, too, don't even like wearing my wedding ring much. It's an uncomfortable reminder of the history of marriage and women's former (and in some places current) slavery to their husbands. I wear it as a social custom, when I feel I'll be treated better with it than without it. (It sure is strange how hetero married women are much more respected in many ways than unmarried women. My single sister used to wear a wedding ring when she waited tables because men wouldn't be so rude to her that way.)
Anyway, great post. Thank you, Mary.
Roger: With the mention of Lee Hall – I'm now convinced I need to read Capers in the Courtyard for the sake of some personal un-answered questions about animal rights vs welfare. Thanks for the links.
I don't feel the conflict as much with Tempest, who is a bit intimidated by the great outdoors (but greatly enjoys her time on the patio with me), but when I had Lucy last Saturday for those few hours that basic conflict became really obvious. She would likely go a little insane without someone dedicated to her needs for energy-release, which makes her dependence on humans worrisome because it could so easily go wrong. I saw the difference with Charles and Violet as well when I was there, and how much happier they were after having a chance to really let it rip around the baseball field.
It is all complicated by the fact that when we do our best for them, it is our best guess, to a point.
It isn't a totally selfish relationship – they likely do enjoy our care – but I've seen some really emotional reactions among some animal advocates who get really upset at the idea of our end goal being a world where there is no need for rescuing animals. And that IS a selfish reaction of theirs, that they justify by trying to quantify how much the cats or dogs get from life by the bond with a human.
I figure, if all animals are allowed to be wild, and some of them choose to make their lives with humans, there you go. If it isn't their choice, then you never know what they'd choose, and that's an issue.
And yeah, that's totally idealistic, that there could ever be a world where animals aren't constantly in a state of human-induced emergency, needing refuges and sanctuaries, but if that isn't our end goal, I figure that will be reflected in our advocacy. In the meantime, of course, we need to keep rescuing and providing shelter for the refugees, as Lee said.
That was a great article of Lee's.