One evening as a newlywed, my  husband called me from work and said that he was bringing home a rescued puppy.  This puppy, said he, was very sweet and had been treated abysmally. He had heard that the rescuer was searching for a home and of course he could not turn the pup away.  So I prepared a little box for the pup, stuffed it with comfy old blankets, and awaited the inclusion of our new family member.  It was a long evening until the pup arrived, and I finally gave up and went to bed.

Slurp! I got a lick from a giant tongue on my face as I was quickly awakened by a monstrous-sized dog. Some pup! This was a half-husky, half shepherd mix that was one of the most beautiful creatures I have ever seen.  Despite his enormous size and paws, he was a very gentle young dog.  However, the little box appeared ludicrous compared to his enormity, and I knew I had been hoodwinked. But it worked.

Pete had a golden color and longer hair than a shepherd, more like a collie but solid golden.  The fur near his chest was proud and bold, and his ears were upright and attentive. If ever there existed a dog who was loving and appreciative, but filled with spirit, it was Pete. The picture that most captures the younger me in a happy, relaxed state is one with Pete. He brought happiness along with those enormous paws.

Another late evening (I was catching on by now), I received another call from my husband relating that he had found another little critter for me to adopt.  This one was a newborn kitten, and by newborn, I mean newborn as in left wet without the umbilical cord being cut.  My husband stumbled across him while working as a night watchman (he was a student at the time). He did not believe the poor little thing had any chance at all for survival, so he threw him in the water by the dock. To his amazement, the kitten started swimming.  Still believing that the kitty could not make it, he got a mop and held him under, thinking he was sparing him a slower death.  But the kitten bobbed up and started swimming again, so he scooped him up and brought him home, complete with instructions that the kitty needed to be fed every hour round the clock. He said if that kitty wanted to live that badly, he was going to give him the chance.

We used a toy baby’s bottle, made a hole in it, and fed the kitten goat’s milk.  I kept him on a warmed bed beside me and fed him hourly, round the clock.  I had to rub his tummy gently with my finger to help him expel waste.  This was some very intense bonding between Skeet, the kitty, and me. Pete was pretty interested in what was going on in the box, but he only peered inside and never touched the kit at all. As the kitten grew, Pete would raise up on his hind legs to catch a peek at him; before long they were sharing food dishes and playing together gently. Skeet was understandably attached to me and would stay at my side most of the time.

Pete had a very large fenced yard in which to roam at the time we brought him home. The six-foot high fence, however, could not contain him. I would see him circling around and around, until he would build up enough momentum to clear the fence. We then put up wiring on top of the fence. I recall looking out and seeing Pete looking like a mountain goat walking on the top of the fencing. No matter how many walks he went on, he yearned for more space. Eventually, despite our own broken hearts, it seemed kindest to give it to him. We found some people through friends that owned a large ranch in Northern California and they happily took Pete with them. Last we heard, he was in heaven with the large expanse of acreage and nature around his new home.  We were not destined to be his permanent guardians; we were his transition.

Skeet was another story. He wanted nothing more than to stay very close to me, forever. That is what I wanted, too. But we had to move at one point, and Skeet found that very difficult. We kept him indoors in the new house, but couldn’t find him anywhere. After a long search, he was discovered in a kitchen drawer. Somehow he had squeezed in from under the cabinet. He took up the entire space and I still cannot believe he jammed himself in that drawer, but it must have felt safe to him. Just like abused kids, this abandoned, nearly killed little spirit was wounded and insecure; he needed containment.  To look at him, all you would see is the most common gray Tabby; you would miss the tremendous spirit that kept him alive.  He rewarded me for the devotion I gave him every single day of his precious life.  He was that kind of loyal. I once heard it said that heaven is having all the dogs you ever loved come running up to you, to keep that loyalty and affection forever. I would add to that, not just the dogs, but all the critters. That would truly be heaven….please consider rescuing a shelter animal.

For our November trip to Serenity Springs Animal Sanctuary, a couple of new critters had come and a couple had gone on to their final resting place. Our task was to build a chicken coop for the birds, so they can be kept safe at night from the predators that come around after dark.  The design was simple, with a walkway for Terry, the director of the sanctuary, to gain access to feed the birds and check on them. They will be free to run and peck around the property during the day, and will be safely inside their coop after hours.  According to the latest census, Serenity Springs now has: 90 pigs, 11 cats, 6 horses, 3 mini horses, 4 donkeys, 7 dogs, 1 goat and 2 steer.  Oh, and one human, Terry DeGaw, who keeps the whole thing operational.  She maintains an “open door” policy, so feel free to stop by for a visit.

One of the new residents is a cute but somewhat shy little gray and white pig; adorable, but still a little people-leary.  And a new dog arrived, too, a part border collie with the whitest white and blackest black shiny coat, Josie Mae. She couldn’t get enough attention and was content to follow the visitors around the property as they worked. Like many of the dumped or abandoned animals Terry rescues, she was in bad shape when she was discovered, but you would never know it to see her today, with her healthy, happy demeanor.

A new program has been started to help with fundraising for the sanctuary. Anyone in Texas who has a Kroger card can take a printed barcode in when they next shop, and once scanned by the checker, a percentage of all purchases go to the sanctuary at no cost to the card holder.  When you are supporting over 100 animals, it all helps. Imagine the vet bills alone! Please download and print the bar code, take it to Kroger is you shop there, and help the sanctuary out at the same time.

Going back to the sanctuary and getting more and more familiar with the animals makes it harder to leave every time.  The fall weather was lovely, and all the leaves were every hue from gold to green to red and orange.  The pigs were starting to nestle down in their hay; the cats were hiding in their little plastic bins (each has a hole and each is filled with blankets, so the cats can stay warm inside).  When I approached, one after another little nose suddenly appeared, curious to see who was visiting them.  I went with our Meetup director Briggitte Dix to feed the pigs and horses some veggies she brought from home – mostly home grown and organic.  Brigitte went back to give all the animals their Christmas presents. Happy Holidays, Serenity Springs!

When I was younger, and less informed, I used to take pride in identifying with the bizarre tactics of People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals.  I cringed at every issue of their magazine that I received, though, so filled with photos of tormented animals; I used to wonder why they sent those photos to those of us who already cared about animals–it was distressing. Obviously, it helped keep their coffers filled, because they continue doing so today.  The fist and paw of Animal Liberation Front seemed to exemplify the radical changes that needed to take place. Free the Animals! Then, I did not question their tactics; I thought they were radicals and felt the torment of animals required extreme measures to get the attention of people. They did make the news and did make people think; unfortunately, what most people thought was that animal rights people were not to be taken seriously.

Now you can count me as a Vegan against PETA. They have made so many missteps that I cannot consider them a positive force in the fight for the liberation of animals.  A few months back, I was more concerned with in-fighting, disagreements and lawsuits between animal protection groups; that was before I landed squarely in the middle of one of their squabbles.  I felt then that if anyone was doing anything positive for animals, then good for them; why would I take a stand against a group that was trying to help?  But what I learned changed my perspective and increased my understanding of the problems with the largest groups, such as PETA, who take in millions of dollars yet do not seem to make any progress towards freeing animals from their horrible position on this planet. While they may stop a bad practice here or there, undoubtedly several more, often worse practices crop up to replace them.  At the root, there is no respect for animals.

Here are the reasons I am disappointed in you, PETA:

1. You use tacky tactics.  Sexism, sizism, celebrity, appearance: all are superficial and do not represent the horror of what you know is happening to animals. Who cares who the sexiest vegetarian over 50 is? Why is it important to disparage a full-bodied female on your billboards?  And nudity?  Is that really necessary, when the reality is so very serious? How does that elevate the dialogue to save other species? What is happening to animals is no joke and it is offensive that you make cartoons while the reality is a nightmare in full living color.
2. You are dishonest.  People trust you to do the right thing for animals. They entrust their companion animals to you, thinking you will find them homes. Then you destroy them before you have even tried to place them and spend thousands of dollars on a freezer to contain all the dead bodies. Ms. Newkirk, you have your photo taken with dogs and cats, yet you are not working to find homes for animals. That is inherently dishonest, using the media to present a false sense of who you are and what you represent.
3. You support some of the most egregious companies by owning stock in them, companies that torment and slaughter millions of animals. How could you?
4. You partner with companies who show no conscience, who cause some of the worst suffering imaginable; yet you partner with them if they make some useless gesture towards animal “welfare.”  If you end up getting slaughtered, there is no welfare involved.
5. You have a scary attitude towards rescue that ends in death.  You have charged other animal organizations of not providing adequately for the animals in their care, but you kill the animals entrusted to your care. How is that better?
6. Your kill ratios are getting higher each year.  What are you doing with all your millions of dollars, if you do not respect the individual lives of animals? Ms. Newkirk, you have said that the kindest thing you can do for a homeless animal is to kill them. That is not kindness, it is psychopathology.  The kindest thing would be to provide them a home.
7. You refuse challenges.  Adam Kochanowicz recently challenged you, Ms. Newkirk, in an open letter to debate with Gary L. Francione.  Mr. Francione, a Rutgers University professor, agreed to the debate.  There is now a petition circulating on Twitter to request the same of you.  Why have you refused to respond?
8. You have become a destructive force.  You support the failed welfarist policies that do nothing to increase respect for animals. Indeed, you show very little respect for them yourself.  Not just the dogs and cats found half frozen and dead in dumpsters, but the fact that you do NOTHING to try to place the animals entrusted to you before you murder them.  They are innocent, loving, feeling beings and you never give them a fighting chance. While you may not be able to save them all, you could at least try. For $32 million a year, you could certainly try.  Your lack of will is fatal.

Your kill statistics from last year, 2008, show only 7 animals placed and nearly 2,000 killed.  That is lower than any neighboring shelter and a higher kill ratio than in any year in your past.  You have an income of over $30 million per year, yet most of us could do better than those odds working with a zero dollar budget and a home computer.  The news that two PETA workers killed dozens of animals within minutes of being surrendered was defended by you, Ms. Newkirk.  You supported the workers (possibly because they were following PETA policy?) stating that they did not cause suffering.  You seem to have a pathological concern that living animals are vulnerable and the safest way to protect them is to kill them.  Your group kills healthy, very young animals – a veterinarian performed an autopsy on one of the dogs found in a dumpster who had been killed and he was only a six month old puppy, a beautiful and perfectly healthy young dog that would have been easier than most to place. Nor did PETA keep these animals in shelter for six months, thirty days, a week, or a day – but only for minutes, before they were killed.

That is why I am a Vegan against PETA.  I am glad you do some good with your money; you should.  But you also cause harm. You give Animal Rights a certain bizarre reputation that is ill-deserved. Gary Francione, Roger Yates, Randy Sandberg, Elizabeth Collins, Adam Kochanowicz, Dan Cudahy and numerous others are Animal Rights people that do not behave in an adolescent fashion. They do not use the media and celebrities for questionable purposes.  The work ahead of us is far too important to have it reduced to a cartoon, to have insulting billboards spread out across our highways that offend a good portion of our citizens, to have nudity used to lower the bar of our cause and make us look vulgar and insignificant, while billions of animals are killed every year, and while PeTA is busy killing thousands themselves.

I know there are earnest hearts who work for PeTA and truly care about animals.  And there are many millions of people who believe in PeTA. But I am no longer one of them.

Related Articles:

The Classical Circular Farce of Welfarism

Sexism and Misogyny in the Movement

You Tube video regarding PeTA’s killing of animals

The power to affect comes only at night…

We worked within the womb of the hospital

As headlights streaked the street outside.

A door bell fractured the industry.

Two ghosts appeared and appealed,

The purple bundled blanket in their arms hiding a snout, a paw,

Ushered in by a wave of innocence.

They spilled the dog onto the table.

The dog! A pulsing streamlined random Shepherd of hair and beauty whose feet walked a path unique,

The sights emulsified upon its eyes never to be spoken or viewed again by any but tranquility.

He fell from our hands, his parts rolling freely.

A medical photo spilled from the tear in his neck:

A shoulder blade lined by rilles of raw white nerves breathed each breath in my hands.

Doctor Greene grabbed for a paw,

But it was gone…

They were all gone, ground to the bare white joints. Bloody.

Hers was all I heard in that British voice so queer for an Angel,

“I’m afraid we’ve got a non-stahter.”

The dog lay quiet.

We pumped purple juice into its vein with a yelp.

It died quietly.

So did I.

by Jason DeGrande

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