I realize yet again that I was wrong about some conclusions I drew. I am reading Carl Safina's Becoming Wild. and I learn, not surprisingly, that the evolutionary rift from reptiles that branched out to result in mammals and birds happened such that birds are one terminal node and we another. Mammals are thus not more evolved than birds, and the reason we think that is due to our ego, our ignorance, and our religious-cultural belief system. so think before u say 'bird-brained' again; birds understand probability, and are capable of making hooked and pronged tools that involve multiple stages of construction. 

homicide therefore is not and should not be more horrifying than the murder of many other life forms we routinely commit. If it's for food I can still condone it as that is natural and part of the cycle of ecosystems, but factory style mass killing is very inhumane (yes that is an old realisation).

I didn't know for example that early whaling in humans was to reduce those majestic bulks of gorgeous mammals to whale oil to lubricate our industrialising lives, and later as we found fossil fuels we started using whale meat to mass manufacture dog and cat food!!!!!! (ugh)

whales and dolphins have sophisticated language, and possibly so do birds and fish. just because we don't hear or understand them doesn't mean we have proof to the contrary. 

the other day I decided that the dog food (just a couple of jumbones in a sealed pack) lying in our car needed to be consumed if it didn't go bad as we are using our car a lot less due to lockdown and not coming back from late night dining at all (the original need to distract dogs guarding our staircase). So I brought it home and took it with me when I went shopping for fruit and vegs from our block thela, thinking that I might spot Beauty and Whiskey and give them one each. My luck then that Beauty was snoozing on the stairs just as I got out. I spoke to her, telling her how I'd been looking exactly for her. and despite her sleepiness I gave her one. She started licking it and got busy and I carried on. I walked around calling out for Whiskey but not finding him gave the second one to an unknown dog who looked like he could do with a treat. the next morning on my return from my run, Whiskey, who was sleeping or yawning and stretching under a car (at that hour a number of dogs are unresponsive), suddenly crawled out and came toward me and kept sniffing my hands expectantly. I caressed his face and ears and rubbed his side lovingly and spoke to him, telling him that I was looking for him the day before and that I didn't have it with me anymore. I wonder what Beauty had told him.