Lying in bed last night, I was suddenly struck with empathy for the wild animals that are hunted down or ensnared only to encounter a torturous, painful death.
Call it "the Snowball Effect" as I'm sure these sudden, intense feelings stem from the recent memory of my pet rabbit, Snowball, being cruelly butchered by my father in the family basement when I was 8.
I thought of all the proudly displayed carcasses, the deer heads, racks, stuffed and taxidermied innocent animals and how, each and every one of them must have felt as the bullet hit or the trap snapped, grabbing a leg and they were stuck in catastrophic pain as they waited to starve or bleed to death. I imagined what it must be like for a deer to be quietly foraging in the forest. It's silent home turf suddenly shattered by a bullet ripping through its side, startled, jumping, sprinting away, it's life slowly ebbing away till it dies, scared and frightened.
I'm torn. I understand the need for food but I am aware of the pain the animal must experience as well.
I'm not against hunting, per se, as I am no judge or jury and I don't believe I have the right to tell anyone else what to do or not do. I'm just saying that I could never look an animal in the eyes and claim my life was worth their painful death.
And no, I'm not about to join any animal rights groups as the last thing I'd want is grotesque pictures and righteous souls proclaiming their opinion. This isn't about protesting or trying to change anyone or what they do.
I'm no longer an admirer of "trophies", dead, hunted down and killed animals hanging on walls anymore, because I can imagine their suffering. It makes me sad, the things humans do for sport and for survival.
