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Asheville Voice for Animals Message Board › Calling for Submissions

Calling for Submissions

Sheridan B.
user 61041002
Asheville, NC
Post #: 8
Hey all!

As a tactic discussed within our Campus Action Group, I am going to be making a zine for the Warren Wilson College community. For those of you who aren't familiar with the term "zine" here's a link explaining what it means:


I am asking any members of AVA to consider submitting something to this zine, whether it be a poem, a short epiphany moment, an experience, a tasty recipe, a drawing, a photo, etc. Submissions can be anonymous or authored. The only requirement is that it is relatively short (no longer than a page) and animal related!

I am really striving to relate to students in a person-to-person, grass-roots sort of way and I think this would be a great opportunity for our members to express their thoughts/feelings/experiences!

If you are so inclined, please email me with your piece using the email below.

Thank you!
user 3111732
Group Organizer
Weaverville, NC
Post #: 55
Hope this one works:
Ever wonder why those strange people never eat what we eat. That's what I thought too. I ask myself why are they different and do I care? I had a dog when I was a kid. His name was Ralph. My Dad named him. Ralph was my best friend and we did everything together. I remember one day Ralph and I were walking by Ole Man Johnson's farm and Ralph went to the fence and rubbed noises with a few pigs. He got all excited and so did the pigs. It was as if they had met for the first time and were glad to find a new friend. Everyday that summer Ralph and I walked by that farm. Everyday Ralph played with the pigs and the pigs played with him. They had so much fun. Running up and down the fence line. Laughing, snorting smiling and just having a good ole time. Then one day in the Fall just before school started, the farm seemed spooky quiet. There were only two pigs in the field. They were very sad. It was as if the world had come to an end for those pigs. Ralph was excited at first, just like always. He rubbed the noise of one pig and everything changed. Ralph and the two pigs just sat down by the fence and were very quiet for a long time. Finally Ole Man Johnson came by and I ask them what happen to the pigs. His words ( Well Sonny, I kilt dim hogs dis morin and got a good price forem). That was the first time I realized pigs are food. I ask myself - What is the difference in Ralph and pigs. They both feel, they both have kids, they both protect their children, they both have fun, smile, laugh and cry. They both feel remorse and loss.
That's when I realized Ralph could be next, so I never went to that farm again. My friends are not food!
Lafayette Gregory (pen name)
Sheridan B.
user 61041002
Asheville, NC
Post #: 10
It's great. Thanks!
user 5575318
Weaverville, NC
Post #: 9

Grieving Cows: An Ear-Witness Account

Posted on Oct 13, 2012

Personal Reflections by Sensei Sunya Kjolhede

Here in the idyllic beauty of these ancient mountains, with rolling fields and green pastures all around, we’ve just passed through the Agony of the Cows. For those who’ve never lived with cows as close neighbors, let me explain. For months we’ve watched some of these lovely brown or black cows–proud, doting and protective mothers–with their babies, who nurse and sleep and jump around in the grass with other calves, and grow bigger. Then, in spring and autumn, the time arrives: farmers separate mothers from offspring, no doubt permanently. Deep and powerful bellows fill the air, answered by the higher pitch of the young ones: gut-wrenching calls to each other for two full days and nights, barely pausing for breath, frantically trying to locate each others’ voices across the sudden distance. Finally, after days of this, the anguished cries gradually subside.

It’s quiet here again in these picture-perfect mountains. But the air still reverberates with last week’s ordeal. And questions remain:

Do they truck the young ones away? Or the mothers? These are, after all, mostly ‘meat’ cows who live near us. Do they forget, these gentle beings, or just give up? One of the ways we rationalize cruelty to animals is to deny their sentience – their ability to feel and care and remember. That was the old refrain about fish, if you recall, that they can only remember something for about 5 minutes (or was it 5 seconds?)—a ‘fact’ completely blown apart after studies showed that carp would avoid an area where they’d been hooked by a fishing rod, refusing to return there for a year or more. (Recent studies also show that fish feel pain and pleasure, a fact that seems to have come as a surprise to some.)

Dairy cows, it should be pointed out, don’t really have it any better than their cattle-cousins. They’re kept perpetually pregnant, often in cramped pens, their babies taken away early on, over and over, to make milk and milk products available to humans. And while a cow, if given the chance, will live for 15 years or more, dairy cows only produce milk for about 4 years until they’re slaughtered anyway, being no longer profitable milk machines. What a life.

If anyone wants vivid proof that cows are much more than meat or milk machines, that they’re sentient, feeling, soulful beings, then come live here with us during the Agony of the Cows. Don’t expect to get a lot of sleep. And forget earplugs: if we don’t witness for them, who will? If we tune them out, refusing to feel with them (the meaning, of course, of ‘compassion’), if we numb ourselves to their acute suffering, then what price will we pay in our own hearts and souls?

Last week, with the almost fierce clamor at its peak, we dedicated the chanting to our distraught cow neighbors:

Faith in Buddha, Dharma, Sangha

Brings True Liberation.

We now return the merit of our chanting to:

All the cows now suffering from forced separation –

May their pain diminish

May the cruelty cease

May all beings attain buddhahood!

One comment on “Grieving Cows: An Ear-Witness Account”

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