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You like animals but after a while you stop thinking about them, you stop demanding a living, furry, faithful companion, you stop directing your rage at your parents’ refusal and the frustration it causes. You become used to not having what you want, or perhaps other, more troubling and deeper frustrations take over.

I am someone who’s always had a good connection with animals, a kind of immediate instinct for animal feeling, and besides, I was very interested in natural science and how we understand life, so I chose to study biology, I’ve taken a classic path.

You used to think that people who work with animals don’t talk about their love for them. You thought that love was only for those who didn’t touch, had no experience of, had nothing to do with the use, breeding and butchering of animals. You used to think that love was a luxury, a pleasure solely available to those who admired animals from afar or who kept them as pets.