I have to admit more than a passing fascination with the whole growing-your-own-food thing.   Our kids have loved caring for the tomato plants this summer, and have dutifully plucked each little strawberry off of our plants, washed it, cut it into thirds, and duly enjoyed it.  And while they aren't willing to sample the jalapenos we're growing for me, they are just as excited in caring for them as if they were.  Our little herb garden has made many good meals even better.

That's all beautiful stuff.  They learn a bit more about what food is and what is required to produce it.  In the process they are inadvertently learning about vocation and all the ways that God provides for our daily bread (literally) through people from farmers to truck drivers to grocery store workers.  And they are learning the joy of being able to produce some of this - and hopefully more and more each year - themselves.    

Much to the chagrin of my wife, though, my fascination with this doesn't stop there.  At least not hypothetically.  I like the idea of raising poultry or rabbits - not as pets, but as food.  The idea of eggs fresh daily, produced on a diet of healthy scraps and scratchings is appealing.  And most of all, the idea of being closer to the food I eat, closing the mysterious, yawning gap between being able to pick up a 10-lb bag of neatly cut and frozen chicken breasts from Costco and realizing exactly what it took to raise those and process them - that's something that seems healthy to me.  

Much to the relief of my wife (and our landlords), I haven't had the time, energy, or ability to follow through on these grander designs.  Yet.  This article made me think about that goal though, and recognize that it isn't without problems.  Certainly I'm no farmer or rancher.  There will be a learning curve that I will have to master.  I will approach that learning curve seriously and intelligently.  Not everyone necessarily will.  

James McWilliams', (the author) basic assertion is that allowing people to raise certain types of animals specifically for slaughter, with the ability to slaughter them on their own, on their own property, is problematic.  It can and does create suffering for the animals when novices attempt to slaughter.  He also sees that allowing this might create loopholes for others to abuse or neglect animals in general.  His final argument that the psychological trauma of this sort of reality eating is dangerous, that we need a buffer between the slaughter process and the eating process.

Dealing with these in reverse order, psychological trauma seems to happen constantly, according to experts today.  Birth itself is now suspect as a psychological trauma, and I'm sure someone, somewhere, sooner rather than later will argue against traditional pregnancy because it's just too darn traumatic for the child.  I have no doubt that should I come to the point of killing my first chicken or rabbit, there will be a level of shock to me, and I certainly am not going to invite the kids (or the wife!) to watch until that shock has worn off and I know what I'm doing.  And that's just the point.  The shock will wear off.  I don't believe that human beings have 'evolved' to the point where we are unable to deal with the death of an animal, or the very real link between that animal's death and our life.  We aren't used to it.  The sights and smells and sounds and feels of the process will be jarring at first.  But as with most things, we can accustom ourselves to it.  Arguing otherwise is only made possible by the financial buffer that allows us to have others do distasteful things for us.  A stunning percentage of the world's population does not have that buffer.  They seem to cope.  I trust that I - and my kids, and possibly even my wife - will also, in time.

I'm not sure how he sees allowing home slaughter as a means for allowing other abuses.  Most places I know of don't require permits to own animals (outside of zoning issues).  Any moron can (and often does) go out and purchase or find an animal to bring home with them, whether they are able or qualified to care for it properly or not.  I don't see how this is much different.  If abuse seems to be an issue, neighbors are still free to call.  Frankly, I imagine there will be a lot more calls as neighbors figure out how to deal with the reality of small-scale slaughtering on the other side of the fence.  

Frankly, I would have expected McWilliams to make an argument based exactly on this - there are sights and sounds and smells and residue from slaughter, and neighbors will have to deal with that.  I'd be far more convinced to rethink local slaughter based on communal respect and love for my neighbor. 

The suffering of animals is something I am Biblically called to try to minimize.  However I'm sure that on the massive farms across our country, quite a few animals suffer a great deal in the routine of humane slaughter.  Human and mechanical failures, as well as the overall living (and dying) conditions of these animals would likely turn my stomach.  Arguing that the locavore push for allowing people to raise & slaughter their own animals would somehow be creating suffering that doesn't exist on a far larger scale seems problematic.  

And if McWilliams is willing to rely on regulation as a means for preventing these issues from ever being raised, I would think he could see regulation as a means for preventing these issues while still allowing people this freedom.  If you have to get a special license and prove basic competency to be allowed to drive, why not for slaughtering your own animals?  While I doubt that there would be enough interest to make this a municipal money-maker, it could allow people freedom while ensuring that they are able to exercise this freedom maturely.  It is possible to legislate in more ways than simply banning practices.  

I hope to someday follow through on my quest to raise chickens or rabbits.  It's not necessarily a moral or theological issue - at least not on the surface.  But I think that being more closely linked and responsible for the food I eat will somehow make me think more about eating.  I tend to think that's a good thing.  Food for thought, as it were.