Wolves in the Rockies have been delisted from the Endangered Species List.  It doesn’t matter what political party is in power, animals always finish last – not just in the U.S., but around the world.  Now the wolves are being hunted, because humans think that two-legged animals have more rights than four-legged animals and they think that only humans can balance Nature, only humans can determine a healthy wolf population, and humans, not wolves, should be controlling the populations of prey species like elk.  The mind reels. 

            Strip down a human to what a human really is, to what s/he really has: pathetic excuses for “claws,” the lack of fangs for killing prey and eating flesh, and no protection from the elements in the form of fur or thick hair.  Humans are essentially weak and helpless creatures who have always used animals for their own advancement.  We haven’t evolved as other species do, by adapting and slowly creating better, stronger physical features to survive.  Instead, we have used donkeys to carry our loads, we have used horses to travel long distances with speed, we have used elements of the earth to create bows and arrows and blades for killing animals that we should be prey to (like the wolves).  We have placed ourselves so proudly atop the food chain while at once detaching ourselves from the life intertwined in this universe and, more specifically, on this planet.  Our exploitation of other animals has made us even lazier than we intrinsically are, and therefore even weaker, focusing instead upon development of industry, money, and technology.  Those things evolve, while we do not.  Even women have lost their connection to their own bodies, using, for example, birth control pills that pump hormones into their systems to make them have fewer menstrual cycles in a year, completely altering the body’s natural rhythms without a second thought. 

And yet humans still think that they can decide, using their unreliable charts and graphs, how many animals of a given species have a right to life; that 600 wolves, for example, in a region covering three states, are sufficient.  600 humans surely wouldn’t be sufficient for survival, so why would it be enough for wolves?  It is enough, according to those people’s standards, because it keeps the wolves from killing the pet dogs people leave outside unattended and from eating the cattle and sheep that are ranched.  A solution, from a vegan like myself: If you understand that the farm animals shouldn’t be raised for food, then you wouldn’t have to keep them, and then you wouldn’t have the problem of them being attacked by wolves and you wouldn’t have to feel so self-important in keeping the wolf numbers down. 

A few of us have raised our consciousness and recognized the connection we have to all life on this planet, from the tiny organisms living in the deepest, darkest depths of the vast oceans to the birds that migrate through our skies from one hemisphere to the other.  If only all of us would evolve, mentally and spiritually, to that place, then we may once again begin evolving physically to better adapt to this changing planet.  Until then we are doomed to an artificial existence, working against Nature until She shakes us off, as George Carlin stated, “like a bad case of fleas.” 

Deepak Chopra once said: “The old paradigm was survival of the fittest.  The new paradigm is survival of the wisest.”  It’s time we all realize that Truth, for our own survival as well as the survival of other species that support our very existence on this aching Earth.     

- Lisa Selvaggio

            Some people will say that humans are superior to animals in the sense that people have an imagination.  They can imagine things that are not there, they can plan ahead and look back, and they can create something that is completely new. 

            While watching a show on Animal Planet that tracked a lion pride in Africa, I noticed how a lion cub, after having eaten her mother’s kill, started playing with the leftover flesh and fur of the carcass, pouncing towards it, running from it, and attacking it as though it were prey.  Is this an example of imagination on the lion cub’s part?  I think so.  Clearly the animal is training for the future, for the days when she will be the one on the hunt for food, but what’s also clear is that the cub has the ability to imagine that that piece of animal skin, once belonging to the animal she just devoured, is something other than itself.  In the cub’s mind, it is something alive and it is a prize to be had. 

            Anyone who owns a pet can probably attest to their animal’s imagination as well.  A young cat chasing a string or walking away with a toy mouse in its mouth, acting as though it has just had a triumphant kill, clearly knows that the mouse is not edible, yet pretends as though it is, in much the same way that a little boy will play with “army men” toys, yet in their minds be right in the thick of the action.  Doesn’t that count as a form of imagination?  If the animal couldn’t imagine, then the toy mouse would simply be a toy.  For both the human child and the animal, it is all a part of growing up, of training the mind and body for the future, for survival.

            Just because animals may not feel the need to build skyscrapers or travel into outer space does not mean they lack imagination and creativity.  They build their shelters differently, using the Earth and nothing more.  They don’t have labs to create synthetics and break down materials into their simplest, elemental forms to be recreated into something different.  Perhaps they don’t bother re-evaluating the way they do things because they’ve been doing it with such a high level of success for hundreds or thousands of years, sometimes longer than humanity has even been around.  Why fix something if it’s not broken, right?  They evolve as they should, with least effort; and with the changes of the planet, not against it.  So a bird species may build a nest the same way over and over again, but it’s because that species has already spent the time perfecting it, and it works. 

Humans, on the other hand, misuse their imagination and creativity.  Missiles and weapons used for destruction; irradiation of food, land, and sky; poisonous building materials; prescription drugs and vaccines laced with chemicals that alter the body’s natural processes and create more disease; waste in outer space; and plastics that never break down---these are some of the things that human imagination has created.  I’m not sure we should be so proud. 

            In the end, there is not much differentiation between the human animal and animals of other species, if you truly observe their behaviors and don’t simply attribute it all to instinct.  I think there is a level of intuition, imagination, and connection to the Source of Life that animals understand on a level that we have not yet touched.  They look too different, and they don’t speak our language, so we automatically assume that they are dull and mindless creatures, following deeply embedded instinctual codes of survival.  But I give them much more credit than that.  Our horrendous laboratory testing of animals may yield results that prove they dream as we do, or that they have cognitive abilities beyond what we first imagined, but all of that is unnecessary if only we stopped and observed, truly observed with an open mind and heart, just how perfectly adapted other species are at surviving. 

            Becoming the person I am today has taught me many things, not only about animal-related issues and myself, but also about other people, namely friends.  I’ve come to realize that when you become as entrenched in a belief or way of life as I am, your true friends are the ones who have enough of an open mind to accept you for who you have become, and are willing to let you be.  I can say I’ve lost some friends over the past few years, one or two of which can probably be attributed to my vegan lifestyle and their disagreement with it.  I can also say that on my music magazine’s Facebook page, we’ve lost “friends” because we would post about an animal issue and someone felt the need to debate us on it as opposed to simply letting us promote what we feel.  Everyone, from strangers on the internet to friends and family, feels the need to start up an argument about my eating habits or my feelings toward other species.  I don’t incite these arguments; people just seem to feel they need to defend their lifestyles and so they’ll often ask why I am the way I am and proceed to give reasons that I’m wrong.  If I don’t push my opinions on them, why do they feel the need to debate me in the first place?  I really think that it’s because they feel the need to defend themselves around me because I live a radically different life from theirs. 

            People are really interesting.  They’ll say a delicate ecosystem of small mammals and plants is at risk because of, for instance, a deer overpopulation that eats all of the vegetation.  As a response to the problem, brought about by urban sprawl and predation, they decide to cull the deer.  What I see here is a species that needs to look in the mirror.  We are the ultimate invasive species.  We are killing this planet wherever we go, from the cutting down of forests to the breaking apart of mountains to the dumping of waste in the oceans.  It must be something to be another animal, to see Homo-sapiens encroach and destroy everything in their path, to see their population grow out of control to the point that they may not be able to sustain themselves any longer. 

            I have to laugh when I hear people talk about a fragile ecosystem in distress or being threatened by an overpopulation of another species, all the while dumping trash into landfills and polluting the oceans with plastic that kills, and destroying the atmosphere with smokestacks and taking up valuable land to house cages upon cages of animals that will be destroyed inhumanely for their fur, and covering everything in concrete.  Any chance humans get to plow over a forest for farmland or for a shopping center or for more homes, in an effort to sustain the ever-growing population, they take it.  Yet they don’t seem to see the destruction left in the wake of these actions.  But the deer you must fear, they will eat away the delicate balance and so they must be hunted and controlled – yet another thing humans never learn: try to control one species with your mathematical equations and graphs, but it never works, and another species is always thrown off balance.  You can’t do what Nature can do, and it’s not your job.

            There is the one caught in the trap, its leg held hard, unable to break free and in excruciating pain.  The breath, the life, the walking in the wilderness called home, the pulse, the blood, and then snap!  The pain, the confusion, the agony, the blood that spills out.  And the endless cries for help that never comes, the heart beating faster, the blood pouring more swiftly.  Then the attempt to break free by chewing at the hard metal trap.  The blood from the mouth, the teeth breaking, the gums gone numb.  Until death comes with its slow approach, welcomed, or a fast blow to the head by the profit-hungry soulless monster. 

            That is just one scene shown as part of the footage in the Tribe of Heart documentary titled “The Witness,” showing one man’s revelation of his connection to animals and then his plan to expose the cruelty behind the fur industry.  This is just one scene, amidst the others of animals ranging from foxes to hares to ferrets.  Then the scenes, filled with animal cries of those raised on fur farms in barren cages, cannibalizing each other, going mad with grief and a need for freedom that will never come.  The man, heartless, grabbing the animal after cornering it, anally electrocuting it so as to preserve the coat that will be used for some human’s “fashion.”  These scenes I can never get used to.  They will always leave me breathless, tears streaming down my cheeks, wrenching and twisting my heart.  Even just typing this makes me hands shake and my head weak.  Because I have always been repelled by fur, I have never understood its purpose, never seen its supposed beauty after its been ripped from the animal it rightfully belongs to. 

            I sit at the dinner table at Christmas, and the women who love to try to prove to others that they are richer than they are discuss their dreams of mink coats before moving on to a discussion of old furs no longer used for clothing but rather turned into stuffed animals.  I cringe and hold it in.  They know who I am, they know what I am about, and yet they continue talking, almost to spite me, it seems.  But it’s family, and I have to keep my cool.  You can’t just run away from these people when you’re done arguing, you have to face them again.  “That’s how it used to be,” they say after someone bursts forth with, “If you want a stuffed bear, why don’t you just go out into the woods and club a bear cub and leave it at that, so that the seal can keep being a seal and the fox could be a fox!”  I can’t help but laugh at this comment, since it is really ridiculous that they take an old coat because “the fur starts to decay” and use it in a stuffed animal that isn’t even the same species.  “But that’s how it was, they didn’t have synthetics back then, it was all fur,” they try to justify, as if they were born in tribal times instead of the 1950s.  “No synthetics” – I doubt that much (see this site for proof).  I think humanity had gotten to the point by then that it didn’t need animal skins anymore to keep warm. 

            At work, a coworker walks out into the cold winter weather of the northeast wearing a big fur hat someone brought back for her from Russia.  I feel it, asking if it’s real, saying “how could you” as she confirms it is real.  She replies that she doesn’t care about the animals killed for fur, because she never fed them, never cared for them, and so they mean nothing to her.  Yet, this woman owns horses.  I’m sure she would hate to see one of them end up in an illegal slaughterhouse to be used as meat, despite the fact that she’s a meat-eater, as I’m sure she wouldn’t want it killed just so someone could use its mane.  The horse is the same as any other animal, captive or wild, yet she cares only because she has claimed ownership over it.     

            What will it take, I wonder, for people to realize that fur is not necessary, and it shows nothing of their status or wealth but everything of their ignorance and inability to empathize with animals that deserve to live – have a right to life – as much as the dogs or cats that they pamper with spa treatments and cute little outfits?  What will it take for people to view the footage I view and make the goddamn connection?  What will it take for people to understand that the cow, the pig, the chicken, the fox, the rabbit, the mouse, the bird, the reptile, the fish, and the pets they keep are ALL animals – thinking, feeling, knowing beings, living and evolving just like the rest of us?  When will people stop making the distinction between the animals they can eat, the animals they can keep, and the animals they can skin?  When will the brainwashing end, and when will people wake up, and what will it take?  When will people realize that using animals, especially in cruel ways, is not a topic for debate?  But most importantly, when will people realize that humans are animals too, equal and no better than the rest on this planet?

            I don’t know if the day will ever come when an animal is respected and not trapped or raised for its fur, but I will work nonetheless to spread education about what goes into making those coats people love to show off.  They may not see the bloody corpse of an animal that was skinned alive, or the animal caught in the elements with no way of breaking free, or the caged innocents with absolute fear in their eyes.  I see those eyes on the screen and they haunt me.  I see the images and they replay in my mind as the mindless chatter goes on outside of me and I try my best to be respectful as they continue to walk all over me.  I see the blatant sadism and I question how people could be that way, as others justify it and think nothing of the violence and hatred.  And then they wonder why people are so cruel towards each other.  They, and their snide remarks about my lifestyle, my lifestyle which breeds life, not death.  They make jokes or start arguments because they are afraid that they are wrong, and so they feel the need to justify their actions without even being provoked.  And so my anger rages, and the passion burns brighter, and I promise those animals that I will try, at least try, to help them, even though I’m not quite sure yet just how I will.   

These words fall upon deaf ears.  I wonder if my task is futile.  Finding then grabbing onto inspiration to have it end there? 

Scandalous voices are heard.  The reward reaches the one who is the whore, selling the self to the great distraction, the grinding machine, its teeth grating.  White-collar criminals, liars poisoning the blind who indulge in their own misdirection, misinformation. 

They could change, if only they knew.  They could find a way to break the spell, unbind themselves from the falsities.  Instead they carry on, inhibiting themselves and taking me prisoner as well.  I, forced to live in their cage, struggle to pry the bars apart and step through.  And my words fall upon deaf ears, so the eternal struggle continues with nothing more than a dubious promise made to oneself of some reward in the next plane of existence.

The need for glamour and material possessions outweighs the raw emotion and passion, and blood and flesh and bone is needed to fill the void created thereof.  The derivation of pleasure from someone else’s pain, from some form of destruction, from the mushroom cloud that paints the sky.  And we all choke on the smoke of our own stagnation as I bellow my words upon brainwashed ears unwilling to hear my Truth. 

Drums beating the wrong rhythm—war drums—enticing violence.  Ignorance breeding itself and bigotry in young minds, 21^st century hate. 

The skin that shows itself if only to attract a camera’s lens and produce a name in the paper, not realizing it has been sold to the patriarchal scheme that enslaves and claims possession of the desperate and astray.  And too many words fall upon indifferent ears, unwilling to wake.

So I become mad with ambition, refusing to change, refusing to fall prey to the game they all play so well, refusing to partake in the dying, refusing to buy their lines of deceit.  The world can fabricate its own artificial nature, but I refuse to bow down, be taken.  I refuse to become enslaved, to be led by gluttonous killers.  The Spirit rages within and refuses to forget its Source; the Woman is still connected to the breathing pulse of Life. 

      Everything stripped clean across the barren land---clarity in death, when the cold winds blow harshly, biting the skin raw, as the sun in its brightness lies about its warmth.  Everything here sleeps except the broken, the tired, the lost, seeking salvation in dreams of water that does not freeze.  Seeking a spark to illuminate and light the way.  Craving to hibernate, to hide away, but having to take stock because things will only continue to fall apart even after the seeds have cracked open into buds when the soil breathes new life. 
      All the friends that said their promises, and all the friends now gone.  Memories buried in snow, which covers the ground with a false sense of purity---don't step in it for fear of ruining the blanket and releasing all those emotions again.  Stuffing everything down to instead focus on survival. 
      Fighting oneself more than the cold.  The snow can fall and the icicles can hang all they want, waiting for something, someone, to help change things, to help bring back the time lost.  But the world seems too far gone, and every continent's been bought, so there is no escape.  And the heat from the fire is stifling.
      The cold is real but there is something artificial about the air, about the clouds that cover the clear blue horizon.  Life is slow, yet there is a promise for growth and renewal---an empty promise that will soon be forgotten once realized unfulfilled, buried under the slush that transforms into slick ice at night to fool the careless wanderer.  The crisp leaves replaced by cracking sheets of ice lining the concrete, hiding amid the blades of grass.  A need to tread carefully.
      The promise of Winter's end---the season may slink away for its own repose, the snow will melt and set the flowers free---but life may still hold ice and bitterness for me...

- Lisa Selvaggio

      I try to find inspiration among the falling leaves of my life, trying to look past all that's coming down and apart around me.  Just for a few moments, those leaves soaring past my window are free, released from the grip of the branches and flying through the air; following, being guided by the wind, effortlessly.  But I can't help but see them fall to the ground, crushed and decaying.  Is life nothing more than a struggle for freedom that, once attained, lasts but a while before you're forced back to the ground again? 

      I walk through the big city, and it's cloudy with a little bit of rain, as it always seems to be when I'm here, no matter what time of year it is, and the wind is blowing harshly.  The trees here have already been stripped of their leaves, and it seems that here there are still jobs to be had as the people hustle past.  There are plenty of distractions: the skyscrapers touching the clouds, the bright lights and giant video screens, the taxis hurrying by, buses' horns blowing.  But all I hear is the crunch of the leaves below my feet and the only thing that steals my gaze for more than a mere second is the tiny sparrow and its mate searching for food in what little spot of vegetation there is along the concrete sidewalk; the tiny birds struggling to make it through another day, just like all of us.  Blank stares of the passengers on the train or ferry, going home after a desk-ridden day at the office after the sun's long been set, fill no void, bring no inspiration except to stay away from that life as best as I can.  But the tiny birds, I have to stop and look.  Maybe I'm strange.  Maybe I'm just really lame.  But it's the truth.

     This big city has nothing to offer me.  It's in the solace of the trees that I find my rhythm and flow.  And maybe there's an opportunity there in the concrete floors and walls, maybe I'm missing out on something, but all I can think is, bring that opportunity here, amongst the blades of grass and leaves beneath my bare feet and then I can settle for it.  But trade this green for everything paved, and trade this air for a stifled room?  I may be forced to do it, but I don't want to.  And that's probably what all those emotionless faces on the subway said before life got too real.  And it's beginning to get too real for me, as I find myself standing closer and closer to the edge, and I'm damn scared of heights. 

      Thus is the dull life of the human.  To awake to the alarm, the jolting noise, not the sun or the birds' songs, and to spend most hours of the day directed by someone who claims to have more rights than you and dictates your paycheck.  Distracted by the chatter, by the price check, by the bills and the banks, by the cookie-cutter education we all supposedly need.  And in the meantime, our bodies ache because we don't have time to take care of ourselves and we get so bored and boring because there's no mental stimulation, just the same old every day. 

            With animals, there is no judging. 

            It doesn’t matter how tall I am, or how skinny I am, or how attractive I am, or how strong I am.  All they see is my eyes, all they feel is the gentleness in my touch, all they hear is my soothing, understanding voice. 

            They don’t care what I do for a living, or how big my house is, or how much money I make.  All they know is that I am there when they need me to be, that I care, that they can count on me.  All they need to know is that I will never hurt them and will give them a safe place to rest. 

            Despite my shortcomings, I have always found forgiveness from animals.  I cannot say the same for people.  Animals have never backstabbed or lied to me, because their actions always exude their innermost feelings and honestly seeps out from their skin.  I have never been betrayed by them, finding a companionship that never wavered instead.  Nor have I ever felt used by them, but rather my kindness returned tenfold by actions of unconditional affection.

An animal’s mistrust or anger towards me is never hidden, so I always know when to approach slowly and with caution.  With animals, there is always a boundary you don’t cross, a line of respect never to be forgotten, and it’s the lack of words between our kinds that makes it so. 

There is no need to fear for an “act” from an animal, no need to fear insincerity.  Their emotions are real, never contrived.  If they fear, are jealous, are angry, are unsure, are secure, are content, or are trusting, they show it in their eyes, in their ears, in the way their bodies are positioned, as long as you know how to read them.  There are no actors among animals. 

In their wild homes, I tread with care, because I am the one who needs to fear, the one in their territory, and their wildness and fear of my kind keeps their eyes from fully understanding my intentions.  There’s that line you don’t want to forget, that boundary line you don’t cross.  The wild ones don’t need me to comfort them, they don’t need shelter from me; they just need their freedom and my respect, my admiration from afar at the splendor of their existence and their roles on this delicate planet. 

Yet on those rare occasions that a wild baby or injured one needs my care, I know they will know my intentions are pure and they will respect and appreciate me in return, remembering that, although humans have done them so much harm and disregard, there are a few of us who care. 

From the closest people in my life, from family to friends, I have been tormented by their disapprovals, by their attempts at forcing me to live the life they dream for me, by their eyes full of lies that led me to believe I could trust them, and by their disappearance from me with no good reason.  And so I have felt a stronger connection to those with whom I cannot share a conversation, with those who challenge me to show my feelings through my actions alone, and with those who are with me for such a short time yet always manage to teach me something new. 

Animals deserve our respect and compassion as much as we deserve it from each other.  We can learn so much from them that would help us be more peaceful and be more honest.  We could learn to respect boundaries, learn to show one another how we really feel instead of being amateur actors in our everyday lives.  We could learn how to be gentle but firm, and learn how to live with, not against, the Earth.  If only people would realize that words are unnecessary and truth can be found in the eyes and hands that reflect understanding and tenderness… 

- Lisa Selvaggio 

*Also featured on All-Creatures.org at www.all-creatures.org/articles/ar-judgment.html

People often ask me if it was hard to go vegetarian.  I will admit, I did try to go vegetarian once but failed.  I have no shame in admitting that, as I feel it further proves that even if one fails at it, s/he can always try again and make it work.  I'm not sure how much time passed between my failed attempt and my successful attempt.  Maybe it was just a few months, maybe closer to a year or longer.  All I know is that I had been learning more and more about the cruelty inflicted upon animals on factory farms and was not able to go on knowing I was contributing to it by buying meat.  
            The moment it changed for me, though, was when I came across a music video (I'm not sure where on the internet I found it) by a band called Madison Park.  The song, "Opus One," is about factory farms and the animals who suffer on them, and the video is full of footage taken undercover of the waste products, environmental destruction, and pollution created by the industry, as well as the animal abuse that abounds on these so-called farms, from chicks thrown out alive in garbage bags to starve, suffocate, or be crushed to death, to a calf lying on the floor unable to get up as a man whipped his side.  The video had me crying, telling myself I couldn't do it anymore; I couldn't and wouldn't contribute to this suffering anymore.  And that was it.  That night, I decided to go vegetarian.  And just like that, I eliminated all meat from my diet (to clarify, anything that has a face, including all fish).
             I had not eliminated dairy or eggs from my diet, though, until I learned more about the connection between the meat and dairy industries -- how dairy cows are made pregnant to produce milk, their babies stolen and used for meat or more dairy; how male chicks are discarded because they don't produce eggs and don't grow fast enough, and the females lay eggs in tiny barren cages after their beaks are sliced until they, too, are slaughtered for meat.  It wasn't long at all, maybe a couple of months, before my cow's milk turned into soy milk, almond milk, and rice milk, my whey protein shake became a rice protein shake, and my cheese became rice cheese or soy cheese.  It wasn't long before my Italian family was feasting on my vegan manicotti at holidays or I was baking vegan cakes for birthdays.  
            Was it easy to go vegetarian?  It was easy because my heart was behind it.  It is so easy saying no to meat and dairy when you see the images of suffering and death in the back of your mind.  It is also easy to understand the health benefits of a vegetarian diet, and the even better benefits of a vegan diet done right.  It is simple to refuse a meat-containing dish, especially after some time has passed and the look and smell of raw and cooked meat becomes disturbing.  And it's fun to delve into new flavors, new cultures of food, and experiment to bring new dishes into your diet to enjoy, or tweak old favorites that still satisfy.  
            The hardest part about being vegan is the lack of convenience when you're out and need to grab a bite to eat.  It's much easier for a carnivore to stop in any restaurant and find a decent meat dish, but it's harder, sometimes impossible, to find a good vegetarian meal, never mind vegan.  But if more people become vegetarian or vegan, demand will increase, and more restaurants will spring up serving veg cuisine, and already existing ones will offer more options.  And sure, it may be a little more expensive to buy certain vegan products and foods as opposed to conventional, but it's worth it for the health and environmental benefits.  And the money you save from not buying meat and contributing to suffering, pollution, and illness can easily be allocated toward the purchase of these alternatives.  And yet again, if demand increases, maybe prices can decrease as well.  
             As a vegan, I don't feel I'm missing out, but instead feel that others who are still stuck in the old ways of eating and living are missing out in so many ways.  It's definitely worth the ride into this lifestyle that appreciates all life, including your own.  Whether you try it out for your health or for the lives of other innocents, the important part is trying, whether it's going cold turkey like I did or eliminating meat from your diet little by little.  What you may realize is that it's one of the best decisions you'll make, for yourself, for the animals, and for the Earth.      

            This particular blog was inspired by a very short news article I read today on CNN.com entitled “Pet Bear Kills Pennsylvania Woman.”  The article, found here, is very short, so I’ll go ahead and paste it right into this blog, in addition to the link I just provided:

“A 37-year-old Pennsylvania woman died Sunday after being mauled by her pet black bear, authorities said.

Kelly Ann Walz was attacked when she entered the bear's cage to feed the 350-pound animal and clean its cage, according to Pennsylvania State Police. The bear lived in a 15-by-15-foot steel and concrete enclosure on Walz's property in Ross Township.

The bear wasn't the only unusual animal living on the property, an official with the State Game Commission told CNN affiliate WFMZ-TV. The homeowner had a permit to keep a Bengal tiger and an African lion, and the property routinely passed inspection and had no violations, he said.

A neighbor shot and killed the bear that attacked the owner, state police said.

An investigation continues.”
 

            I understand that it is in cases like these where animal activists are misunderstood, and so I hope no one will think me insensitive, but there is a part of me that cannot feel sorry for this person.  She chose to keep a black bear in an enclosure the size of a small livingroom, made of concrete and steel, and on top of that, also had a tiger and a lion, in Pennsylvania.  I can’t help but get angry at the selfish ignorance of people like her, who keep these wild animals under these types of conditions and then wonder why they snap, like the woman whose chimp attacked her friend and nearly left her for dead this past year.  And it always ends with death for the animal, without fail.  The animal can’t speak for itself and plead for its side of the story to be heard, so it rarely ever gets a second chance.

            Although there are no photos, and the police claim the property passed inspection, I dread to think of the conditions these animals live in.  Bears, lions, and tigers are massive animals made of nothing but muscle who need miles of space to live out their lives, yet people, and the government that allows for such ridiculous permits, feel that it’s okay to keep these predators under lock and key in someone’s backyard.  The governments that allow people to keep these animals should consider the safety of the people.  As long as these leaders are going to dictate what we can and cannot consume, if we can or can’t own guns, etc., all in the name of our “safety,” then it should be common sense to outlaw the keeping of wild animals as pets.  The animals suffer indefinitely, no matter what some people will tell you about how they’re treated, and the humans often suffer consequences as well.

            There are sanctuaries across the United States and around the world that rescue and take in wild animals who were formerly kept as pets in horrendous conditions.  It happens all the time, and their goal is to give these animals a better place to live out the rest of their lives because it’s usually too late to release them back into the wild.  When people refuse to continue caring for these animals, or when they simply cannot afford to anymore, they pick up and leave them behind to die slow deaths without food and water in their tiny enclosures, sometimes with no sunlight.  Some make it out when they’re rescued, some don’t, and some that do make it have permanent damage from diseases or injuries from which they will never recover.  Let’s also not forget the ones that are sold off to canned hunts or are shot and killed for their fur or so someone can hang their head on the wall.   

            I call it selfish ignorance because people who do things like this are just that: selfish because they want to keep these cute and cuddly animals while they’re young, disregarding the lives they are meant to lead, and ignorant because they don’t know what these animals really need in terms of space, diet, enrichment, companionship, etc., and they don’t even think about how uncontrollable they’ll be once they reach maturity.  Do I feel sorry for these people?  How can I?  Am I siding with the animals?  Yes.  Am I crazy for thinking this way?  No. 

Keeping wild animals should be a criminal activity; the fact that it isn’t is precisely where the problem begins.  Despite non-profits lobbying government to ban the breeding and trade of animals like big cats, for instance, different states have different laws and they are all too vague and filled with loopholes to make a difference.  This woman’s life did not have to end this way, nor did that bear’s.  Her family and friends did not need to suffer the loss of her.  It wouldn’t have happened if we had federal laws prohibiting the breeding, trading, keeping, canned hunting, and use of wild animals in any way.  But people are selfish, and people are ignorant, and people think that we should control these powerful creatures, and people think that they have the right to keep them in captivity to “see and learn about them.”  If keeping an animal in captivity should teach us anything, it should be that wild animals should never be kept in captivity. 

- Lisa Selvaggio