Why I’m a Vegan

I have a “real” story I tell people about why I decided to become a vegan. It’s pretty reasonable, doesn’t infringe on how other people want to live their lives, and makes a good bit of sense, all while being very ironic, and a little bit funny.

People hate that story, because I use it to justify being a vegan. I’m told that the way I’m supposed to be making that argument involves throwing blood on non-believers, hate crimes, and being insufferable at all meals. But that’s just not my style.

Because so many people hate my official explanation, I have had several years to ponder if there might be a more effective way to explain my non-threatening stance on veganism. The other day, it hit me.

If you are reading this blog, odds are nearly at 100% that you know someone with a dog who spoils it terribly. They treat it like a member of the family, it follows them everywhere, and it’s spoiled beyond all recognition. The people who most often do this are middle-aged housewives. Often, they have had several dogs over the years, and in many cases, each new dog looks suspiciously similar to the last.

If you know this dog owner well, you probably know how the previous dogs met their end, because this is one of the owner’s favorite things to talk about. Typically, the dog (after becoming grossly overweight) died of some form of organ shutdown. By the time the third dog enters the scene, it is often on an all-organic diet of special food. Sometimes, this food is more elaborate than the stuff its owners eat. It is generally high fiber, vegetable based, and low in calories.

That said, let me finally get to my point. On many, many occasions, I have been invited over to people’s houses only to hear the following story:
“I miss Fido II terribly. He was such an adorable dog, and he died so young. But then again, he did love those table scraps, right up to the point where he got fat and died."

::Pause, as I stare at the speaker::

"That’s why I only feed Fido III cooked beans and rice. Oh! That’s the kitchen timer! Meatloaf is ready dear, won’t you have some?”

“No thanks. I’ll have what Fido is having.”