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Practical Issues > Hunting, Fishing, and Trapping - Index > Trapping
Reader Responses to Robert Cohen,
www.Notmilk.com, Do you own a fur-trimmed winter coat? Chances are that the fur comes from dogs raised in China. I recently wrote about the processing of this "commodity" and included a video for your viewing pleasure:
http://www.peta2.com/OUTTHERE/o-AndyDWetSeal.asp
A few of your Comments:
Jamie
jabav@sbcglobal.net wrote:
I write this letter with shaking hands and a broken heart.
Never in my life have I seen such horrible torture. Why
couldn't they have at least killed these poor innocent
animals first instead of leaving them to die such a
horrible, cruel, heartless death. I will be haunted
forever with images of the poor helpless creature laying
there skinless, to die. I watched the video to the end. My entire body feels like
it's shaking from the inside out. The second half of the
video showed only the rest of the animals whose fate was known.
I do believe if people saw this they would forever fight
against it and not promote it by buying and/or wearing fur
from these gorgeous and beautiful creatures.
Spence
getwell2@centurytel.net wrote:
I have to agree with you....my spirit grieved heavily
and I also could not finish watching the videos. There
is a day of reckoning. How dull and hardened people
have become. It was never our destiny to be that way.
We were to be the keepers and protectors, not this...
Clare
Chiara50@aol.com wrote:
I have never seen such atrocity in my life, NEVER!
I just couldn't believe my eyes or stop crying. The
anger that arose within me is beyond belief...I am
currently numb.
Kristi
toddkris@sbcglobal.net wrote:
Thought I could watch this video. Didn't think it would
bother me, but it did! I made it about 30 seconds and
almost threw up. How horrifying!!! I don't buy fur, but
was never really concerned about who did. This industry
reminds me of the abortion clinics all over our country!
Innocent preborn human lives need protected too! What kind
of people are we becoming when we've lost our sense of the
sanctity of life?
Osher
osher_bachrach@yahoo.com wrote:
Ouch! I started viewing the video. I had to turn
it off after a few minutes. It is truly awful.
Gretchen
gretajean96@yahoo.com wrote:
I could watch only the beginning of that footage. My
fiancée watched the whole thing and told me that there
was a little guy who was skinned and then he got up and
looked around. I was deeply disturbed for days after
just hearing that. I take as much solace as I can from
knowing that there are others who care like we do and are
trying to stop the monsters.
Brenda
bm_curran@yahoo.com wrote:
You are right - its probably the worst visual I could
imagine, but I did watch it - and the 2nd half is more
about the poor animals in cages, rather than the live
skinning of these beautiful creatures you would have seen -
horrible. You may be interested to know about Animals Asia Foundation
- apart from their famous China Moon Bear Rescue and sanctuary
in China, Jill Robinson and her team of dedicated animal lovers
(and influence in the chinese government), have their Dr. Dog
program - which uses rescued dogs (and cats) from the live food/
animal trade - to take into doctors clinics, hospitals, blind
children homes and orphanages etc to rekindle the lost special
bond of "a mans best friend" and animals for positive health
treatments. They are very special people indeed, having met
Jill and the team and worked on some of their projects (as
volunteer and pro-bono in Australia). Every bit of publicity
counts (both hard to watch and the good outcomes) to stem the
awful use of animals for human selfishness. Thanks for sharing
the video.
Mary
maryagahee@yahoo.com wrote:
I watched in horror at the first animal and then
when they took the cute white dog out of the cage
who was very playful and started to skin it alive;
I couldn't take it anymore. What is wrong with
these people? I feel helpless to stop them.
John
ibjohnseydler@yahoo.com wrote:
Evidently you can stomach more violence than I can.
The few images I saw as I scanned through the video
were more than enough to convince me that these people
are cruel, sadistic, and could skin you or me alive
without giving it a second thought. Too bad the
American people are now obliged to send their wealth
to such an evil murderous people. NAFTA and GATT are
surely designed to weaken our beloved nation and China
is likely one of the implements of death poised to
destroy us.
I felt like vomitting after only literrally 5 seconds,
I was so angry. Wow. That really ruined my day.
Linda
lpiel@wildmail.com wrote:
I could only watch until the poor being was being
skinned alive. All day I have said "Oh, my GOD",
it is the most awful, terrible, inhumane thing I
have ever seen. It filled me with such rage that I
could easily bash in the head of the MAN with no
qualms. The eyes of the injured and dying animals...
a sight I shall always carry with me. My granddaughter
and I are PETA members and vegetarians. I am afraid
to even show her this video, she is only nine.
Kathy
taylor_kathy@yahoo.com wrote:
NEVER in my life have I witnessed such cruelty. The
first half was so unbelievably horrible, with the
skinning of live animals. The animals I am sure can
hear and see the slaughter and know what is awaiting
them. It is so horrible and cruel. Yes, I cried.
and yes, I sent PETA a small donation as a visceral
reaction. But I also asked PETA to get the word out
to more people, rather than staging relatively innocent
demonstrations against women who wear fur, such as
throwing paint on a fur coat. People need to know what
hell is going on right in our world. We can get the
sights and word out to people, and you are right, if
they see what is going on, they might stop the fur trade.
I already had known that the fur trade was horrible, but
I had not known the extent of it.
John
john@pc-directions.com wrote:
Hello Secretary Gutierrez, I recently became aware of the horrific conditions under
which China fur farms operate. Many animals are literally
skinned alive, and remain alive for a good while after being
skinned. See:
http://www.furisdead.com/feat/ChineseFurFarms
Much of the fur imported into the U.S. comes from China. Are there any plans on the part of U.S. trade officials to
pressure the Chinese government to put a stop to these
abominable practices? I've also written to North Carolina
Senators Elizabeth Dole and Richard Burr, and to N.C.
Representative Walter Jones Jr. about this. We've leaned on foreign countries with respect to their human
rights records; it's time to do the same with regard to animal
rights. Even the Almighty cares about how we treat our animal
friends: "A righteous man regardeth the life of his beast: but the
tender mercies of the wicked are cruel." Proverbs 12:10 Please take some decided action here, and soon.
emailbox07@yahoo.com wrote:
...my stomach turns as I bring these images to mind.
Sue
Sue.Molenda@inmar.com wrote:
I imagined myself a friend of the unfortunate individual
whose coat you saw being removed... His dazed comrade writes, below:
You saw a little of what we endure, and could not watch any
more. I watch it every day. You called it unprecedented
suffering. It is not. It is the routine riot against our
ravaged race. I have witnessed it daily, from birth, from
behind the wire squares that confine me and all my fellow
sufferers. The hairless ones, as we call them, (you may call them men)
keep us in cages, very near the daily slaughter. What envy drives men to covet our coats for themselves? What
hatred drives them to torture us, all our lives, just because
we have what they do not? The ones who feed us--and those who torture us--do not even
wear our coats, themselves. They murder us for sport, and
trade our coats for ugly paper and tiny bits of metal, which
can neither adorn nor keep them warm. I will tell you what you could not watch, today. It is a scene
that repeats itself daily, in my world, and nightly, in my
dreams-- in all but one. I will tell you that dream, first. I will let you know a little
of the pleasure that I have only imagined, before I tell you of
the nightmare that is my daily reality. A hairless one--a small one, with great, round eyes, and a
soothing voice, opens the door to my cage. She carries me
gently. She says we are running away. She holds me in her arms,
and I do not thrash or bite her. She smells of apples and rice,
and not like the fermenting flesh of my fallen friends. The
other hairless ones always smell of death and murder. She smells
of life and goodness. I am not frightened. But you don't want to hear my dream, now. You asked to hear what
really happened. Most days, I do not leave my cage. But every day I long to
escape it. I long to run along on the cool ground, and through
the tall grasses, beneath the trees that beckon, in my dream.
This day, the cage opens. I am lifted into the air. Two of my
comrades are waiting, on the ground already. The hairless one
holds the big stick in his hand. I have seen him hit others
with it. I have heard their cries. I close my eyes, as he
strikes the friend on my left. The crack against bone is
louder, and my friend's groan of shock and pain is sharper
and more terrifying than any I have heard. I feel the impact of a blunt beam against my own head. I am
shocked beyond belief. I have seen this horror, but I never
knew how dizzying pain was. Again, and again, the hairless
one strikes me. I want to run away. I want the small one to
gather me up and rescue me. I call to her. I call to anyone
who will hear, but the stick keeps slamming into my skull,
and all I know is pain and terror. Relentless terror. Why
won't anyone come to my aid? I fall limp, silent, at last,
and I begin to dream. I dream I am running, beside the small, hairless one. She
feeds me berries and flowers that are more succulent than
any food that ever was tossed into my cage. But then I hear a noise, a gutteral, sucking, wretching
noise, and I open my eyes. The hairless one has tied my
comrade up by his legs. He has sliced around the bottoms
of his feet, and slit his coat up to his belly. My friend
gags and wretches, and then he begins to fight. He thrashes
in vain, and calls for help, but we are all helpless. The
hairless ones shout. They laugh and spit and talk as if it
is a sport to cause us pain. The hairless one cuts away at
bits of flesh that hold the coat to my friend's most personal
places. I fear for my friend's life. I fear his pain. I know that
I will be the next one hoisted by my legs. I know that no
round-eyed child is coming for me, but I wish I'd had time
to tell my friend of the dream. It is something to think
about. Something to carry the mind away from the unrelenting
terror and pain. My head is throbbing. I cannot imagine how
the peeling will feel. The hairless one grabs my friend's coat in both his hands,
now, and gives a mighty pull. He peels the flesh from my
friend, and it comes off in one, ghastly whole. The hairless one hands my friend's coat to another hairless
one. I do not think they are friends. What bond can form
between two beings who kill and torture others, for a living?
Their sole delight derives from others' pain. My friend is beside me, now. He opens his mouth to speak.
But his despair is unutterable. He falls, back, spent. With
all his strength he raises his head, and looks into my eyes.
I know he is trying to speak to me. But he has no words. I
notice now, what large, round eyes he has. They are rimmed
with long, beautiful lashes. He is hairless, now. But he is
not like the others. He is small. He looks almost like the
child of my dreams. But he could not rescue me. His face and
body are red with blood. His eyes are full of grief and pain.
I do not know how it feels. But I will. I wait, and close my
eyes. I know they will come for me next. But they do not. I hear the barking of another animal. A
chorus of barking. The white dogs are rebelling. Some of my
comrades reply. I don't understand the white dogs' language,
but I hear, in their barking, the same terror and outrage that
our, softer voices utter. They bring a dog from his cage. He
is dazzling. His snow-white fur is long. The hairless one
strikes him with the club. He does not lift him by the legs.
He clubs the dog until he lies still. He raises his knife. He makes the same cuts that he made around my friend's feet--
the feet that now lie, motionless, beside me, shod in the only
remnant of a grand and shimmering garment. The dog is bigger.
He fights harder. He barks. He turns his head to bite the man,
and the man smacks his head, over and over, with the knife,
until the dog lies still. He cuts again, around the dogs private
parts. The dog complains. The man stands erect, with all his
weight on one foot, atop the white dog's neck. When he steps
off, the dog whimpers again. The man jumps back on the neck again, with both feet now,
and stomps the skull, to crush the life out of the dog. I black out, for a moment. I cannot see. I am back in my
dream. The little hairless girl comes for me. She lifts me
in her arms. She carries me far, far, into the woods. She
sets me down beside a still stream. I drink thirstily. I
lay my head in the girl's lap. She feeds me. My head stops
throbbing.
eyes. I see the man, still jumping on the dog's head. And then... all I know is the dream. All I want is the dream.
To run in the woods, and drink by the stream-- to lie in the
lap of a sweet-smelling girl, and eat berries.
Sue Molenda |