“That’s what we tell ourselves,” she said. “That there’s a wall. On one side, dogs and cats—they feel pain. On the other side, pigs and cows—they feel… what? Nothing? Just dinner?”
She would keep looking. Keep learning. Keep opening the door just a little wider. “That’s what we tell ourselves,” she said
Rows of narrow metal stalls, each one barely wider than the animal inside. Sows lay on their sides, unable to turn around, unable to stand fully. Their legs were splayed on slatted concrete floors. Some had raw, bloody sores on their shoulders. One chewed endlessly at the empty air—a repetitive, vacant motion, like a broken clock. On the other side, pigs and cows—they feel… what
It wasn’t an excuse. It was a real problem. Lena realized then that welfare wasn’t simple. A vegan world might be the moral ideal, but Ray had bills, employees, a mortgage on the feed mill. And the pigs were already here. Keep learning
And maybe, one day, there would be no more wrong turns. Just the right way forward.
“That’s the point.” He didn’t say it cruelly. He said it like a fact of weather. “We’re a family operation. Been here forty years. We follow all the rules.”