Vegging Out

Ugh, so I've become a vegetarian. The Wrangler is convinced that aliens have abducted the real me, who believed that a meatless meal really is just a snack. Until I quit eating meat cold-turkey, so to speak, I probably hadn't gone without eating it for more than half a day. I regarded my friendships with vegetarians with skepticism--I secretly suspected that our differences were too great to bridge. I remember filling a pinata with Slim Jims instead of candy. I was offended by pizza lacking meat toppings. I have cookbooks with titles such as "The Meat Club," and "Bacon." When asked what I wanted for dinner, I usually just said, "meat."

For a while I'd been finding it hard to reconcile my love of pets and animals with my love of eating meat. Something had to give. I really don't have a problem with eating animals who have had nice lives and did not suffer. But the reality is that most of the meat sold in grocery stores and served in restaurants does not come from natural or humane circumstances and conditions.

I'm by no means a vegan or even a strict vegetarian; I still eat seafood, eggs, milk, and cheese. I don't know why I feel sorry for cows and pigs but not fish. Maybe someday I will.