To their credit, the people from the TV channel wrote me a thoughtful response. I still haven’t seen a feature on how to cut up a chicken or dehorn a goat, but maybe that’s too “real life.”
DEAR ANIMAL PLANET
Dear Animal Planet,
You have a great channel on cable TV. Many of the shows are fascinating and informative. However, there is a conspicuous absence of the most indispensable animals on the planet: domestic livestock.
Part of your popularity is the emphasis on human-animal bonding. You present animals, glamorous or otherwise, as creatures worthy of our esteem. You even use animals as comedians, straight men, fall guys, victims, sports figures, teachers, actors, singers, and commercial spokescritters. It is a cornucopia of Disney-like anthropomorphism, using live animals instead of cartoons.
But you also show death on the Serengeti. Exposing city children to the simple act of a cheetah kill is essential if they are to ever understand the order of existence on earth. It has been a part of life since omnivores entered the food chain.
So I would suggest that including related stories about domestic animals and the people who care for them would be an easy step. Ninety-seven percent of our population eats meat. Yet most urban kids have no idea where it comes from. Modern society has separated the ham from the burger, the chicken from the nugget, and the hot fudge sundae from the holstein.
We have sanitized our children’s world. So they can eat without considering the sacrifice and service that domestic animals provide to humans’ well-being. For those who might think urban people are not capable of dealing with the blunt truth of animal production, I suggest that they are. From the beginning of civilization until fifty years ago, the majority of the earth’s population was agriculturally cognizant. People learned from childhood the intricate intimacy of raising and dealing with livestock.
Country kids still maintain this close natural relationship. It instills respect and a sacred responsibility toward those animals in their care who are destined for the food chain. Conversations with these country kids would open a world of understanding to an audience largely insulated from this fundamental part of their real life.
When my daughter was eleven years old, we were raising rabbits. She was showing a new litter to her urban aunt. “They’re so cute,” said Aunt. “What will you do with them?”
“When they’re about five pounds, we sell them to the grocery store,” she replied.
Her aunt was aghast! “How can you do that!” she blurted.
My eleven-year-old looked up at her and said, “I don’t make friends with them.”
Wisdom as ancient as time from the mouth of a child. It could be useful on Animal Planet.