I realize as I sit here that I have never had an animal where I knew their actual birthday before you. All my other animals have been rescues with nebulous-at-best origin stories, usually strays, so we just celebrated our “gotcha” days, which is a perfectly lovely tradition but I have also been embracing the novelty of having this extra bit of information. I have also not regretted adopting our other animals as adults one iota (save for our Clara Bow, found in our backyard as a newbie kitten) but there is also little bit of longing attached for me to have been able to at least see a picture of them as babies. With you, it was different. I not only got to see you as a puppy this past year but experience you and all those needle teeth, those sweet little grunts, that soft belly, those floppy ears, that delicious puppy breath. Even your poop, even in unwanted places, was adorable.

You came into my life when I was at a crossroads of trying to decide if I was able to take another chance at love, at trust, at vulnerability, at possible heartbreak after a profoundly traumatic, sudden loss that capped off two very difficult and stressful years.

Ruby-Mae, our lives together started like this: On February 16, a friend (you might remember her, Stacey), who crossed state lines to rescue your pregnant mama Lulu, posted that four puppies had been born in her home. (Stacey thought that was it but two more would follow, making you one of six.) You were part of the first four, Ruby. Somehow Stacey’s post made it to my eyes. I lingered on it for a minute then closed my laptop. I wanted to pipe in but I also know my tendency towards leaping before I look. I also didn’t know what to say and my heart was just so tender. I went back. In my mind, seriously, I kid you not, in my memory, I returned to the post the next day. Nope. I just checked out the timestamp on that. Fifteen minutes after Stacey’s original post, I commented. To me, this took enormous self-discipline, not fifteen minutes, but nearly a thousand seconds of being calm and moderate.

Ever-so gingerly (even if it did not come across as such, I suck at playing hard to get), I intimated that if there were still households needed, I would toss my hat in the ring as a potential adopter. Stacey ever-so gingerly acknowledged my comment with a thumb’s up circled in blue. I put this interaction in the back of my mind, telling myself little clichés that managed to be true: “If it is meant to be, it will be.” “At the very least, I know my heart is ready to adopt again.” I tried to put it out of my head and just carry on. Meanwhile, I was dreaming up names, making more room in my heart for you. ​

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​What helps you through dark and difficult times? Please let us know.
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Have a wonderful day!

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​We did all those things, some better than other, but I think we did them well for the most part. Time after time, though, we found that Buffalo wings, cheese omelets and Haägen-Dazs were valued more than the animals who unwillingly gave their lives to supply them. 

In the 2000s, the news started becoming harder and harder to avoid about climate change and the inextricable ties to animal agribusiness, but the needle still didn’t shift much. Maybe it didn’t touch lives personally enough yet, maybe it was still too abstract. Then the pandemic happened. This would be it, we thought. Once burned, twice shy, but we had hope: This was the time. We hoped that when push came to shove, when omnivores really had no place to hide, they would come around to the vegan message. Even if they don’t care about chickens and cows, we thought, surely the repercussions of animal agribusiness on human lives, current and future, would cause people to stop their support of the supply chain. Again, people have shown that what should be a flashing red light is easy to ignore if it’s in your preferred best interests to keep your head down and just keep doing what you’ve always done.

While the jury is still out on the exact origin of SARS-CoV-2, it is considered likely that the virus, which causes COVID-19, crossed over from a wild species like bats or pangolins to infect the human species. We know that all seven human coronaviruses to date have a zoonotic origin, meaning they originated in a species other than our own. The truth is, even in the unlikely chance that it is discovered that this infectious disease did not spread from wildlife to humans, there are still so many more pandemics in the lineup just waiting to happen. According to a recent story in The Guardian, eight variants of avian flu, any one of them as potentially catastrophic as the coronavirus, are currently circulating through the industrial chicken factories of the world, and some of these strains, like H5N6, have already begun infecting and killing people. It’s still in the infancy of the most tepid of alarms being raised but early news about the COVID-19 started out a little sleepily in retrospect as well.

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Perfect By Design

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The other day, we were on our way back from somewhere and John noticed a school bus. He observed how school buses have not changed significantly since he was a school child. I didn’t know where he was going with this so I just kind of listened to his observations about other objects that have not gone through major overhauls. He looked up at a jet plane overhead as we continued on our way home and he continued on his little tangent. “Commercial airplanes haven’t changed much since they first started being used, either. I mean, little changes here and there to boost comfort and ease of use but the basics of an airplane are still pretty much intact from the 1940s.” From there, we talked about hammers: While adaptations may have been made to the grip to make it more comfortable in the hand, the simple utility of the overall design remains fundamentally unchanged. While the original hammer was cruder, form and function met at the beginning; whether you buy a $10.00 basic model or a $230 elite one, all hammers basically are asked to perform the same tasks well.  Beyond the functionality, the rest is just refinement and window dressing.

Or think of a bowl: The idea is to hold something that might flow out of a more flat surface. Bowls have been made out of all kinds of materials, from glass and metal to stone and shell. Some are small, some are large, some have deeper wells, but the function of the bowl still is to prevent what is contained within it from spilling out. No matter how sophisticated we become, no matter how fancy or simple it is, a bowl must still work as a bowl and it found its expression early on when the need for such a specific dish was noticed.

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Vaccines for Vegans in the Pandemic Means Doing Our Best in This Imperfect World. 


 It saddens me that at this stage of things, we need to continue to reiterate that the coronavirus is not a fire drill. With well over four million deaths, many more cases of illness (including those who will continue to have disabling long-term effects), still in the thick of the more transmissible and deadly Delta variant, there are people who want to play keyboard “skeptic” over it when what they really are is gullible, gullible to the dis- and misinformation spread by self-appointed experts, thirsty wannabe influencers and actual propagandists.
Gullible, yes, and also shockingly callous.

Millions upon millions of the world’s poorest people would do anything to have access to the vaccines that those of us in the West look down their noses at despite the information being readily available that vaccines, imperfect though they may be, are the best tool in our collective toolkits for keeping this horrid virus from spreading more and further mutating. (Delta could be a walk in the park compared to what is down the pike thanks to those who are continuing to keep this virus well supplied with human hosts.)

If you are one of those people at this stage of the game, you are so far gone you still don’t believe that the pandemic is real. You scoff at those numbers. You smirk at healthcare workers, exhausted and desperate, pleading with us to please take this seriously. You laugh at those of us who are vaxxed and wearing masks again because while we are largely protected from the virus, we know we can still spread it. You take this last bit of information to mean that you were right all along. You weren’t right. You were stubborn, callous and cruel enough that you allowed this virus to keep spreading and mutating. During the Holocaust, there were also deniers.

Congratulations? People the world over, grieving the loss of family members and friends, neighbors and coworkers, you owe them nothing, I guess. The fact that you are the ones responsible for torpedoing businesses because, hey, who knew, economies don’t thrive when highly contagious viruses are running rampant during a massive public health crisis. You don’t see that, though. You try and try to deflect that onto those of us who are being responsible because, like so much of what you have continued to push that defies logic and rationality, why would you suddenly start to be accountable, think clearly and honestly?
But all that is not what I am here to say today.

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