Eating Goats with Glee, Rescuing Them with Compassion

[Note: Animal lovers who may be dismayed by the first half of the post, stick with me until the end, OK? There's something you'll want to see there.]

In my roundup of recent posts from around the animal rights and vegan blogosphere last week, I left out three intentionally--because they deserved a post of their own: "How I Learned to Dislike Henry Alford" from Animal Person and "The joy of discovering a new species to slaughter and consume" and "letters, letters, letters" from the Reformed Fast Food Mascot. Both bloggers were writing in response to a New York Times article titled "How I Learned to Love Goat Meat."

A sample from RFFM's first post:

But the consumption of you was different, unknown baby goat. Your flesh in the New York Times reviewer's mouth set off a veritable fireworks display of metaphors and word plays and literate sexual innuendoes. . . .

There. You see. Not only did human hand slaughter you and human tongue savor your flesh, but a human mind exalted you by describing you in such ornate terms. "partaken of the bearded ruminant." How did the Old Testament poets overlook that one? Ah, but it's not all praise from the New York Times reviewerer.

Indeed, goats have always had a low reputation.

And the source of this low reputation? Goats don't adequately serve the master species. Their flesh lacks the appropriate tenderness. Their bodies aren't well-suited for cosmetics testing. They go about their own lives, without bothering to enhance the human experience at all. "Their unappetizing visage is simultaneously dopey and satanic," the New York Times reviewer says in playful disgust.

But he redeems the goat! The goat has its use after all. It is worthy. It is fit to be eaten by a party of festive Manhattanites in the Times reviewer's fourth floor apartment. No more envying the pig and cow and chicken. Now the goat too can join the pantheon of animals who offer up their flesh, unwillingly, it's true, but only because of their imperfect knowledge of the joy they'll bring to the humans who consume them.

I'll let you read the rest, as well as the other two posts, on your own because now I want to share with you the story and video of a baby goat whose dead body was supposed to end on up on dinner plates but who instead is now going to live out her days, loved and in safety, at the Woodstock Farm Animal Sanctuary. From the video description:

Fern is a baby goat who was born at a goat milk and meat farm in upstate NY. Several weeks ago a caring individual stopped by the farm to have a closer look at all the baby goats she could see from the road. She immediately saw evidence of neglect. One little goat in particular caught her attention - one of her legs was dangling from an obvious break and the tips or her ears were bloody & scabbed from frost bite. When the woman inquired about her leg the farmer shrugged, saying that Fern probably got it caught in a fence and it would heal on its own. Unable to deal with such suffering, she purchased Fern for $20 and got her to a vet, who was able to set her leg in a splint. She then called us, Woodstock Farm Animal Sanctuary, and we welcomed her with open arms. Almost immediately young Fern made lots of new friends and is enjoying her new-found life of freedom, nurturing care, and all the love she'll ever need.

Watch below. The images at the end, Henry Alford? Those are a far more beautiful, heartwarming sight than anything you could ever describe involving a hunk of her flesh on your plate. Your beloved goat meat and goat cheeses aren't worth taking lives like this one (and yes, I said "goat cheeses" too; like veal calves in the cow dairy industry, killing goat kids like Fern is required by the goat milk industry). Meet Fern (pictured above, courtesy of Woodstock):