Aren't They Cute?

Tambi Dude emailed in this link. The last paragraph is bizarre.

Mental note: Do not bond with a Muslim.

Comments

[Cafe Alpha]

While children accompanying the animal-buying brigade lose their hearts to animals in their frenzy to take them home, pamper them and show them off to their friends, a nod of approval from the father or the uncle is always awaited. Extreme measures such as comparison of prices in terms of the meat that would be obtained from the animal, its overall health and well-fed status are also exercised in letter and spirit.

Several rounds later, the prize-winning ones are eventually purchased in true sacrificial spirit. Now comes the transportation as the precious purchase must reach home safely.

More excitement follows as the animal reaches home, is tied up in a spot carefully chosen for its comfort and mobility. The children can't wait to walk it around the neighbourhood to show off, feed it and create the bond that will be the essence of the sacrifice the following day.

That is the strangest thing I've ever read. Kind of child vampires or something. Oh he's so cute, can I kill him, daddy?

[Isaac Schrödinger]

It's the other extreme of the spectrum.

There are kids who don't want to hear where meat comes from and then there are some who can't wait for the cute animal to be slaughtered.

I find the comfortable attitude with killing an animal at such a young age disturbing.

Like them, I was desensitized early. My dad used to take me along for poultry shopping when I was 6-8 years old. He would pick out a chicken, the butcher would slice its neck a few feet away from me and then throw it in a barrel as it thrashed and its blood and life drained away.

As for the goat in the bathroom, I was at the time angry at the fact that I wasn't given any advance warning.

I realized the age factor later. The other kid was two years older than me; he was 12 and he couldn't handle the scene of the slaughter. Was it sensible of my dad to expect me to?