That's a Judas kiss! People treat the animals so well, give them plenty of food, let them grow and get fat until their "adolescence"... then they kill them and eat them! This is probably the only aspect of rural life where I never fitted. I live in the big city but I spent my childhood in the country. I saw "them" killing my rabbits, my chickens (the fox also gave a hand) and even a beautiful and tender lamb someone offered to my parents... about a month before Easter. I should have guessed, but right then that idea didn't pass through my mind. I had that idyllic idea that only the "others" killed the poor animals, but not at my home... That was the last drop! I stopped eating almost any kind of meat and I still don't like it, it is as if not only my mind but also my body refused to eat meat. But I eat a little, I have to give the example to my daughter, she is still growing and I know she needs animal protein in this phase of her growth. About a year ago, she saw a documentary at school about the way animals were treated and killed... For months I wasn't able to make her eat meat, I wasn't able to persuade her because she knew my own story in childhood. In our last Easter holidays, when I was passing a few days in the North, one afternoon I heard that terrible squeak of a pig that was being killed, probably about five hundred yards away, but I would recognize it anywhere... it's a terrible sound of agony and pain. The killing of the pig it's a big party, a big moment for the reunion of family and friends...but not for me. Fortunately, the only animals we had were cats, dogs, rabbits, chickens, that lamb and for a year or two a goat full of "personality" and quite unpredictable. I still remember the day when a famished wolf (he was terribly thin) got into our yard and was looking at her as a snake looks to a sparrow, she didn't move a millimeter... My father saw it just in time, cried for us (my brother and me), we picked wood sticks and chased him along almost one kilometer... Usually I was afraid of wolves (I had some close encounters with them and they ate the village animals from now and then) but that one was so weak and skinny, I only felt pity not fear… After that episode my father gave the goat to someone who probably killed and ate her. I never asked. I didn’t want to know. But in spite of all that I said I respect those traditions, I just don’t want to be a part of it… Your photograph portraits very well that relation between people and animals and it is a valuable document of those dying traditions…
Vlad, I can relate to your message. We have such a close relationship with our animals. I respect those who cannot eat meat because of their hearts being connected to their food. The blessing we say at our meals reflects a connect between the sacrifice and the need and the provision. Thank you for sharing your love of people, places and all of God's creations.
That's a Judas kiss! People treat the animals so well, give them plenty of food, let them grow and get fat until their "adolescence"... then they kill them and eat them! This is probably the only aspect of rural life where I never fitted. I live in the big city but I spent my childhood in the country. I saw "them" killing my rabbits, my chickens (the fox also gave a hand) and even a beautiful and tender lamb someone offered to my parents... about a month before Easter. I should have guessed, but right then that idea didn't pass through my mind. I had that idyllic idea that only the "others" killed the poor animals, but not at my home... That was the last drop! I stopped eating almost any kind of meat and I still don't like it, it is as if not only my mind but also my body refused to eat meat.
RăspundețiȘtergereBut I eat a little, I have to give the example to my daughter, she is still growing and I know she needs animal protein in this phase of her growth. About a year ago, she saw a documentary at school about the way animals were treated and killed... For months I wasn't able to make her eat meat, I wasn't able to persuade her because she knew my own story in childhood.
In our last Easter holidays, when I was passing a few days in the North, one afternoon I heard that terrible squeak of a pig that was being killed, probably about five hundred yards away, but I would recognize it anywhere... it's a terrible sound of agony and pain. The killing of the pig it's a big party, a big moment for the reunion of family and friends...but not for me. Fortunately, the only animals we had were cats, dogs, rabbits, chickens, that lamb and for a year or two a goat full of "personality" and quite unpredictable. I still remember the day when a famished wolf (he was terribly thin) got into our yard and was looking at her as a snake looks to a sparrow, she didn't move a millimeter... My father saw it just in time, cried for us (my brother and me), we picked wood sticks and chased him along almost one kilometer... Usually I was afraid of wolves (I had some close encounters with them and they ate the village animals from now and then) but that one was so weak and skinny, I only felt pity not fear… After that episode my father gave the goat to someone who probably killed and ate her. I never asked. I didn’t want to know.
But in spite of all that I said I respect those traditions, I just don’t want to be a part of it…
Your photograph portraits very well that relation between people and animals and it is a valuable document of those dying traditions…
Vlad, I can relate to your message. We have such a close relationship with our animals. I respect those who cannot eat meat because of their hearts being connected to their food. The blessing we say at our meals reflects a connect between the sacrifice and the need and the provision. Thank you for sharing your love of people, places and all of God's creations.
RăspundețiȘtergereGreat shot:) Greetings
RăspundețiȘtergereExcelente fotografia....
RăspundețiȘtergereCumprimentos
Thank you all for your visit and words! :o)
RăspundețiȘtergere