Her
name is Rosie; and she's an individual. I tell you this as I tell
myself, because I know that even though I’ve thought about the
lives, rights, and humanity of non-human animals tremendously over the
course of the seven years I’ve practiced veganism, I think I still feel
some amount of distance. I know this other life is more than a feeling
and sensing mechanical body with a name attached, yet part of me doesn’t want to
believe it, because that would mean truly empathizing with the billions
of others just like her who won’t ever have the opportunities she does.
I
find reading or watching movies on factory farmed or enslaved “animals”
is very different than looking into the eyes of someone; an individual.
It’s only then that I really see that glimpse of a self. It’s
undeniable, heartwarming, and terrifying all at the same time. In some ways I saw
Rosie, my assigned study partner, as cute, pet-able, fun-loving and playful, but I also stop for
moments and realize this is a life outside all the human words I have
for her. She and hundreds of thousands like her have adapted and endured
over millennia to be these specific ways, and I know in all seriousness
I owe her much more than “cute.”
Rosie is a magnificent individual. She
has overcome incredible odds; through the whirlwinds of the mammalian
radiation and endless ice-ages. Her distant ancestors have endured and
adapted overtime; developing into entities with incredible senses for scavenging and food gathering, a nurturing demeanor for rearing offspring,
and an advanced form of intelligence, language, and decision-making
skills that have helped her kind survive and grow into what stands
before me today.
I can’t say my history as a primate and homo-sapien is
much different, aside humans rare, luck of the draw, odds of ending up
with both opposable thumbs and bi-pedalism; something that helped us turn into a particularly fierce
form of predator that has learned to prey on other pack animals by the billions.
In most
respects we share the same story over the millenia, but Rosie's is arguably a bit more
tragic over the past ten thousand years. Her forefathers were one of many grazing animals that upright
apes enslaved and began farming in newly formed agricultural settings
ten to twelve thousand years ago. With this enslavement her kind was
bred to our specific liking; docile, easily managed, less dangerous to
handle, etc. Many of her distant relatives still roam the earth today,
but they are in short number in their natural settings.
Rosie's past probably has an amazing story attached to it, much like
it probably has a horrific one. Her distant relatives were from completely opposite parts of the world originally, and she most-likely came to
settle here in the Northwest because her previous family was imported as
slaves either from Europe or directly from east Asia. We can trace her earliest
enslaved ancestor origins from the mountainous regions of Vietnam and
Thailand where her earliest kin were all quite small in stature. After many of her
kind was selectively captured and “bred” for size and demeanor, some of
her ancestral cousins were sold and imported to far-reaching places like
Europe, and Central Asia, and eventually the Americas. This branching
off and commodification over many thousands of years has distanced Rosie
from so much of her original high-mountain roots. I wonder how much of
her still has that ancient dimension of her intact and thriving.
I
use the term “bred,” above, perhaps in quite a devaluing way. Her ancestors
were nothing short of enslaved; forced to cohabitate and reproduce at
the will of their captors, and systematically selected for over hundreds and hundreds of generations. In
this way, Rosie has overcome incredible odds to be here at Pigs Peace
Sanctuary. If her families past could be retold as a narrative I think
it would be both incredible and heartbreaking at the same time. It’s sad
to think that the few who were enslaved indefinitely as “pets” were by far the
lucky ones; the rest were farmed simply for their flesh.
We now know that the much larger “farm” type pigs we commonly think of as food in modern pork production today are genetically
linked to Rosie’s distant relatives. As well, the populations we know of
as “wild boar” are also genetically linked through history as they are
all able to interbreed. When genetically sequenced, Rosies earliest
high-mountain ancestors show a remarkable amount of genetic diversity;
it’s only when individual and isolated developing regions of
humans selectively breed these individuals for human (food) desired traits and excessive size that the pot-bellies
vast distinguishing visual features, colors, and variaion visually diminish.
I’ve tried to imagine what it would be like knowing my roots are
tied up distinctly to slavery and selective breeding practices, and I’ve
decided I probably wouldn’t want to know or relate to something so
abhorrent at all. It's heartbreaking to think about seeing the world this way. I find I am incredibly lucky to cherish the heritage I know
of, as little to none in my not-so-distant past family tree were
probably descendants of lifetime slavery.
I feel it’s essential to any sort of multi-species study to first
recognize this insane privilege I have, not only as a physically
dominative species over so many countless others historically, but as a
white, middle-class, able-bodied human who is lucky enough to have been
born in a place of relative political calm, with unlimited access to
potable water, an easily available and varietal food supply to maintain
health, and bio-medicine and cognitive therapies to help aid unwanted
thoughts, fears, infections, aches and pains. I am further privileged
with the means to attend higher education, read vast academic, cultural
and historical ideas in libraries, and to have had the past and present
social support networks in place to get me where I am today with
relative sanity and calm. It’s only with this extremely lucky life of privilege I’ve been handed, that I can make more holistic, philosophical, and
ethical choices like choosing to avoid eating other animal and their
many derivatives.
I know many more wish they had the luxury to make such
a meaningful decision, and might simply never have the chance; for many the health of their family and their own well-being take precedent. Factory farmed pigs
and bovine are another example; they're forced to eat nothing but refined
carbohydrates like cornmeal and processed dead animal for the entirely of their lives.
They will never get a chance to taste and nibble sweet greens on their
tongue as they have been evolutionarily designed to do. Many house pets
are also limited to hard crude protein nuggets that come from a mix of
recycled dead animal parts and corn or soy. These individuals and their diets are sadly at the mercy of their captors, and providing a tasty natural diet is of little concern to most owners.
I think it’s little things like palatable food that humans very often take
for granted. These small luxuries are of the utmost concern to us day in and day out, and
add up to so much more privilege than we'll ever know or understand. To look
outside of our ingrained, often self-absorbed and human-centric cultural
norms is rare. One might argue that humans more primitive historical processes
didn’t allow for ethical considerations such as diet and the choice
to limit our capture or enslavement of other sentient animal lives, simply because we were hungry. That argument holds great weight for primitive humans, especially considering our earliest ancestors are
well-known to have developed in coastal regions alongside plentiful
shellfish and marine life that arguably gave us this continued robust
brain size and made us into what we are today.
However, there comes a
time when killing stops becoming necessity of “kill or be killed,” and
instead becomes sport; when dietary preferences stop becoming a means of
survival, and instead seemingly turn into tradition and artisan flavor
profiles; when skinning the hides from the back of a woodland creature
to survive cold winters progressively becomes fashion and name-brand
objects of desire; when killing someone from another species is no
longer seen as an act of violence against another individual, but is
instead systematically ingrained to the point of us going about our
daily lives never questioning the practice (let alone ever experiencing
it firsthand to understand what we habitually allow, vote up, and pay
into.) It's times like this that we have a moral responsibility to act
and invest intentionally vs blindly. The global north has commodified
billions of Rosies' for nothing more than mouth feel and super-bowl sunday snacks. We've enslaved endless kinds of animals for countless kinds of foods and commodity, but no matter where you look; their screams, cries, fear, and desperate eyes all represent the
yearning of only one thing; freedom.
As one of our first readings in class from Torres so importantly
pointed out, there comes a time when our global human-centric system of consumption
needs to look outside itself and utilize our many forms of privilege for the
ethical treatment of others with substantially less. Torres points out
that if we have these means to do better; these means to otherwise stop
or greatly reduce suffering, yet don’t act on them, we are choosing to
exploit; we are choosing to continue making others suffer needlessly,
and we are doing this simply because it’s easier to uphold these
hierarchies already in place.
I think we're often persuaded to look the other way either because it makes us more
money, or because we invest in delusional religious fanaticism. Many organized religions like judeo christianity preach absolute human dominion over every other species on the planet; worshipers are taught that all non-human animals were put here by a deity(s) only for their use and consumption. Religious followers also often dispute scientific data regarding evolution and relevant peer-reviewed study proving sentience in non-human animals. This often overlooked issue of religiously motivated exploitation is directly linked to politicians and their followers (particularly the conservative right) in the US; even amid a
supposedly upheld separation of church and state. These biased and
unscientific ideologies inevitably find their way into issues of
legality, lobbying efforts, and amassed subsidies that feed endlessly
into the farmed animal and dairy industries, of which Rosie's ancestors
and current family are a product.
By law and the eyes of the state
entity that rules and governs us here in the US, Rosie is considered nothing more than
an object or commodity; a flesh and blood machine that operates at the
whim of its owners. It’s with this in mind that I try to carefully
consider Rosie's personal journey, and attempt to envision what she
may think, feel, need or imagine in her own world as an individual; a feeling and empathic animal with individual needs and desires just like me and like you.
I
came to the sanctuary with an open heart and an open mind, and didn’t
quite know what to expect. I knew there was a positive tone to the idea
of a sanctuary, but amid the many individuals living here, and their
many horrific stories of pain, fear, suffering and solitude, I knew this
place was also one of haunted pasts. Every individual here has a story
to tell, and Judy does her best to sit and listen and give space, freedom and time for healing; but as we all know, many scars are with us
for life. Rosie is one of the relatively lucky pigs here at the
sanctuary. Her youth is a blessing.
Before I’m introduced to Rosie I’m given a brief story of her
life. She’s been lucky enough to escape most of the physical and
emotional trauma many others here have endured, and she's still very
young and impressionable, so I am very thankful to hear she has such a
wonderful place to do much of her future growth into an adult pig. Much of her childhood will
still be in this peaceful place of respite and freedom; something so few get to experience in their lifetimes.
I
smiled and walked over to her fenced enclosure; excited to meet this
new life with so much promise. I came in the first day wanting very much to try to
understand more about her as an individual, and to try to piece together
a narrative of her experiences as well as ours together.
I first noticed I felt differently about Rosie as an individual
when I hesitated in how to properly introduce myself when we first met. I
was taught to hold steady eye contact, smile, and reach my hand out to
other humans, but the formality was quite different with the many dogs
or cats I had met over the years. How was this greeting with Rosie
supposed to go? She’s about eighteen inches high, and I tower well over
five feet tall. I felt I might present quite a scary presence, at least at
first, so I tried to crawl to her instead of walk up. I figured even if she
was extremely used to other humans around the sanctuary I must have been
more than a little intimidating to her at first; seeming to home in on her presence from the moment I arrived, and standing up on two
legs as I was.
I knelt down and sat on the grass about 7 feet away, and
she looked me over, scuttled up on her feet, and walked off. I gave her a
minute and tried crawling a bit closer to her this time, and our eyes
met for the first time. I saw a beautiful golden brown tone in them that
reflected the sunlight and looked faintly auburn. I realized I never
thought about what color a pigs eyes might be before that moment. Perhaps
she noticed the color of mine as well.
I
was told Rosie’s eyes were those of a child; as she wasn’t even a year
old yet. It was explained that she was the equivalent to a
ten to twelve year old human in “pig years.”
Rosie wasn’t judging me
like a wise old woman might have, she was instead sheepishly edging her
gaze ever-upward; looking away quickly and then darting her eyes back at
me again only every time a bit more intensely. It felt similar to
the way any growing child might stare back.
I remember I
was intensely shy once too. When I was very young I used to hide behind my
mother's legs as a safety net when she introduced me to others; they always seemed so incredibly tall when I was that little; I always felt a bit timid around someone bigger than me.
I remember adults smiling
at me and not knowing how to react back to them either. It was as if they knew some
important secret I didn’t. I saw so much of my own shyness in young
Rosie's eyes that first day, and felt an instant connection between us. I hope she felt
it too.
As that first day unfolded she let me inch ever closer, and near
the end of our few hours together at the sanctuary she let me sit about a
foot away and allowed me to run my hands down her head and back. She
smelled me and looked me over; perhaps deciding I wasn’t a threat, instead,
merely there to enjoy her company. I can only speculate for now. “They
call her Rosie,” I thought to myself.
I am back again two weeks later and a little nervous; will she
remember me and my scent or my face or hair and welcome me, or might
I need to take a bit more time introducing myself into her terrain and
personal space? If she's anything like me, trust takes a little bit of time.
Judy talked to me a bit more about Rosie's history before
coming here, and I discovered she was brought into the world rather
tumultuously, and had quite the busy and crowded early childhood.
I
wondered if she had the chance to grow and explore the world around
her mother and father much before she was taken from them; learning,
relaxing and playing with her siblings carefree. That abrupt loss must have been a
rough day for her. She was taken to a new home with her brother and
sisters, but never got to see her mom again. I wonder if she still
thinks or dreams about her now.
Her
siblings were hopefully a source of comfort to her, as they were
playmates as well as sexual partners during this first adoption period. Her brother impregnated her when
she was still quite young; about the equivalent of an eight or nine year
old human girl. I'm unsure if this was something forced upon her or not. Either way, at least she had familiarity.
I suspect she didn't get to know her mother or father very much before she was taken
away from the original family that housed her, and I wondered if that
made pregnancy more of a scary time. She had probably never seen anyone else go through
this ordeal before; it was all brand new. I wonder if she knew she was
leaving or not, and whether she got a chance to say goodbye to any of her family somehow
as she was taken away from them. Was she scared? I would have been terrified.
As
her tummy grew larger and larger she probably had to spend a lot more time eating
food and sleeping in weird positions. On top of
experiencing pregnancy for the first time, she was suddenly
uprooted from her 2nd home with a man from craigslist and placed in her current spot in the sanctuary. Alongside new strange people and new strange pigs around, it must have been strange to spend so much time outside for the first time in her life. This
was her first time away from both of her siblings too. So much happened so fast to Rosie as a little kid.
She
was placed in the maternity ward at this new strange place with new
strange smells and new strange noises, but the space and sun and grass
must have felt wonderful. Her new home was shared with another expectant
mother named Hazel. She has beautiful eyes like Rosie. I hope their
shared experience of pregnancy together helped make things easier. I
would guess enduring those huge heavy awkward belly moments alongside a
new friend would be comforting in a way, as well as having someone nearby when in labor
for the first time.
Rosie
soon gave birth to lovely baby piglets. I got to see pictures of
them as newborns, but didn't meet them until they were about 2 months old.
They spend a lot of their time around their mother and nurse often when
they see an opportune moment. I notice it's hard for her to sleep
sometimes when they want to eat, eat, eat! I hope shes happy as a mommy.
I
wonder also if she ever feels sad sometimes, especially late at night
when things get quiet. I wonder if she ever misses her family or the place
she grew up, or if it’s all a distant memory now.
Day
two is here and I walk into the enclosure to say hi. She either
remembers my face or my smell or my voice because she lets me walk right
up to her today. I think we have a little thing going, Rosie and I. She
likes getting lots of belly-rubs and I like giving them out; it’s the simple things
in life that are the most enjoyable sometimes.
I wonder if It's rough being a mom at such a young age.
Rosie does an exemplary job, regardless. She’s obviously very patient
and gentle with her kiddos. She seems at home in her new space. Her piglets seem to keep her plenty busy and distracted too.
I’ve seen Rosie get stressed out and take a walk away from her piglets on occasion. She
loves relaxing in the mud bath and then laying down peacefully in the
shade of a big tree immediately next to it. The piglets run off to do
their own exploring while she takes her quick mud dip.
I gotta say, it looks
so refreshing!
Rosie
was shy and somewhat withdrawn when I first met her, but now we fast-forward to after my
third visit here and she's warmed up a lot. She came up as if to welcome me after I
sat down in the grass and we locked eyes again as I scratched her ears
and back. We laid up against one-another in the sun for awhile.
I gotta
give her credit; she’s been through a heck of a lot in her single year
on this planet. She’s still only a young girl; developing socially,
physically, and psychologically, yet she's made it through incredible
odds to get here in this place of respite.
It seems the shade is a relaxing oasis during
the day and their enclosures and hay beds keep them cozy at night. The
sun feels warm on her back as I pet her after she munches on grapevines for lunch. I
give her one last friendly pet and say my goodbyes for now. She heads to
her favorite place to nap in the shade of the big tree and lays down.
I can’t be sure, but think we've made a new mutual friendship. I'm
so happy, thankful and honored to have met such a wonderfully courageous
young soul.
To
me, pigs Peace has been a lesson in patience, compassion, empathy,
individuality, introspection and creativity. When I visited a place
designed specifically for pigs in mind instead of humans I was forced to take a step
back and appreciate what I often take for granted as human-centric, as well as what
others thrive on as necessity. Vast space to roam free was the first
thing that stuck out to me, and second, the ability to have privacy
whenever they want it. This is something so fundamental to most that many probably take it for granted, while still cherishing it to no end; it’s also something very few pigs this day in
age ever get to experience,
It’s so important to remember this inequality when
we so often govern and choose the living situation for others bodies.
This most basic right is so often taken from non-human animals simply
because we don’t take the time to get out of our humanness and try
considering their ways of thinking and interacting with the world. It’s
this respect we absolutely owe others; to slow down, learn from them and listen to
what they need and how they thrive as individuals.
If there are alternatives to needless suffering in others, we need
to try to find them. This is true of both human and non-human animals,
but especially critical to those without voices. As the capitalist hierarchy in much of the world stands, non-human animals are considered
weak and easily exploited for their bodies, and therefore (according to
top-down state societies) a resource that can and should be tapped to
the fullest extent possible.
Pigs Peace Sanctuary defies that logic and
questions capitalistic ideology. Pigs aren’t viewed as machines to be
used, but instead as individuals with lives, wants, needs, feelings and
fears. They are seen as a top priority of care and concern because they,
more than anyone, lack a voice in the larger state and globalized
movements, and in turn are the most easily exploited and often most
cruelly treated individuals on the planet. Where there is room for abuse
and suffering, we have an an ethical obligation to try to close that gap. Who
are we if we willingly choose not to?
Pigs peace is just one way of active resistance against the
political and economic norms we take for granted in society, but there
are many others. Activism is always very helpful in almost any form of resistance.
Social anarchistic methods of research is another; as we learn to think
about animal bodies and their own agendas we break down barriers,
address the sustainability of top-down approaches, ask new questions,
and find new ways to combat complex issues; we can ban together to combat institutionalized violence, question state-run pedagogies, and learn new ways to move forward as a species while promoting
harmony and respect with others who share spaces with us.
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