This Sunday, February 21, 2016, I will be joining Smithfield Pig Save during their monthly vigil, in which they “bear witness as six-month-old pigs end their short life journey at the Smithfield Foods slaughterhouse in Smithfield, Virginia.”
The Save Movement aims to bring awareness to this tragedy while remaining peaceful in speaking with others. The event is from 3:30-5:00, and we will be meeting in the public parking lot at the intersection of Rt. 10 and Main Street.
I will don my Interfaith Minister robes, and lead a Memorial Ceremony for the estimated 32,000,000 (yes, you read that right, 32 MILLION) pigs slain annually by Smithfield Foods.
If you can join us, please bring a flower for the grave of the millions who’ve lost their lives here, as well as your signs and your open hearts.
I will also be giving a Blessing of the Activists—for all those chivalrous humans who stand for those without a voice.
It is my opinion that animal activists who stand against factory farming are among the most courageous people in America. They must brave the light of their own convictions, and stand against ridicule, hatred, and violence toward both the animals and themselves for pointing out the obvious—that animals are living beings and deserving of respect.
When I moved my dog nonprofit to Virginia in 2011, I ended up living on site at our Surry County facility for almost 2 years. Smithfield is only 8 miles from the Good Newz Rehab Center, and I spent a fair amount of time traveling through the town, or walking its trails. I couldn’t leave the center without seeing the pig transport trucks, and it always sent a wave of pain and panic through my stomach.
I felt hopeless and helpless to make a difference for these poor beings—they had no say in where they were going, or how death would come for them. They were perceived as merely objects, as food, but that’s not what they are and their suffering was unquestionable.
Pigs are living, breathing, sentient beings, who were put on this earth for their own purposes—not to be bred, raised, and slaughtered by the millions for human use.
I look forward to standing with Smithfield Pig Save on Sunday as a voice for the voiceless on their way to certain death. I hope you’ll join us.
Because God loves pigs too.
Who am I to question love?
I wonder how future generations will regard the ruins of modern slaughterhouses? As reminders of an era in which incalculable billions of highly sentient creatures were subjected to miserable lives and tortuous deaths, to satisfy humans’ demand for products they did not need, probably as places of fear haunted by vengeful spirits and shameful memories. Even after the evil has ceased, will any religious ritual ever be able to sanctify such polluted ground?
Very good points, Wolf. I certainly hope that future generations will be kinder and smarter than we are. When I used to walk the trails in Smithfield, the park was beautiful, but it was most often overhung by the stench of burning pig skin. The town is adorable, with painted pig statues everywhere, like they are revered…when the opposite is really the case.