- Briana
Well it’s about time I sat down and wrote this. I know its long but hey, I had a lot to say. Each part is broken up by
a heading so feel free to skip down and read a part that interests you. Thanks for stopping by! (:
Growing up with animals….
I grew up on the south shore of good old Long Island, New York to a wonderful but definitely unique family, with an
older sister Greta, and a younger brother Kit (which yes, puts me in the middle. And yes I have been told of a
supposed “middle child syndrome.” I don’t have it. I think.).
My parents encouraged creativity and let us paint whatever we wanted on our bedroom walls, let us pick out our
own clothes (which looking back at some old pictures, man did I have some interesting taste), and let us pursue
whatever sport or activity we wanted to. My younger brother Kit, My sister Greta, and I were taught to love and
respect nature and that every animal, wild or not, deserved a chance at life. I remember after rainstorms, going
outside and rescuing the wormies on the sidewalk who were going to drown and putting them on dry land. I would
also attempt to make worms and slugs my pets by giving them a name and putting them in jars with dirt.
However, they didn’t stay in there for long as my mom watched what I was doing and always put them back.
Many of my childhood memories revolve around an animal we had. My dad had converted a side yard into our
animal yard, where most of the wildlife we rehabilitated or rescued lived. We had a variety of animals over the
years including Sammy and Bill the seagulls, Suzette the goose (who actually turned out to be a boy), swans,
turtles, opossums, raccoons, rabbits, and of course cats and dogs. It was always amazing to me how each
animal had such different personalities. I think when there are big groups of animals, such as a herd of cows or a
flock of geese, you forget about that individuality and you just think of the mass as all one. But every time you
separate these animals out, it’s just phenomenal how each will show you how they are different from the rest.
When I was around 7 we went up to a ranch in upstate New York and till this day I remember the white pony I got
to ride named Salt. I bawled my eyes out having to leave Salt behind. That fascination with horses has never left.
When I was 13 I started volunteering at a stable, owned by a Swedish Pan American silver medalist dressage
rider, tacking up the lesson horses in turn for free riding time. My first day riding on my own, I sucked plain and
simple. I almost fell off at least 5 times. A Swedish working student Elizabeth, who was there working in
exchange for horse training with the owner, saw me struggling and after laughing for a bit asked me if I would like
some free lessons from her. Those were the most amazing lessons I have ever had and I attribute all my riding
ability to them.
Most of the time I would ride the horses that weren’t used much since I felt bad for the horses that had already had
lessons that day. This is how I met Scorpio (previously named George…yeah, I liked George better.) Scorpio
was a beautiful blood bay with a black mane and tail. He seemed to be a difficult horse so was hardly used in
lessons and is why I ended up riding him almost every Sunday.
I became strongly attached to Scorpio and we had an amazing relationship. However, he was still difficult for
people in lessons which ultimately became his downfall. I remember being told that because he was not a good
lesson horse he was going to be sold to a broker. I begged my parents to buy him but they couldn’t afford the
monthly upkeep for him. All I asked was that the barn manager would please call me to let me know when he was
sold so I could come down and say good bye. That never happened. Instead I came down for a lesson and ran
out to the barn to ride him but found his stall empty. My best friend was gone. I was devastated and did all I could
to track him down but never found him.
I didn’t really fit in well with a lot of people at the stable, including the 2 girls I would always work and ride with. The
bond with the horses was more important to me than the actual riding. I didn’t like hitting the horses; I didn’t like
using brute force to make them do things. Instead I took my time connecting with them and working up to what I
wanted and giving them rewards when I got it, which is what Elizabeth taught me. Unfortunately, though Elizabeth
went back to Sweden and I was left to start riding in the group lessons with another trainer who didn’t share these
views. I got tired of being yelled at to hit the horses and to be aggressive so I stopped riding for a long time and
only took it up again in college with the equestrian team.
I got the opportunity to do a month long internship at Monty Roberts, who wrote the Man Who Listens to Horses,
Flag is Up Farms in Solvang, California my freshman year of college. The “horse whispering” method was exactly
what I was looking for and confirmed my thought that riding is all about the connection and that a gentle hand is
the better hand.
Deciding to become a veterinarian…
I always saw myself pursuing a career that allowed me to help animals. I wanted to try veterinary medicine so I
volunteered at a clinic the summer of my freshman year of college. I was not prepared for what I would
experience. I don’t think anyone there, including the vet, even liked animals. Animals were constantly sitting for
long periods of time in dirty cages while the staff sat around and did nothing so I started cleaning cages. The
techs were rough and aggressive with the animals. And then I had the last straw. A dog was tied to a cage so I
went over and I was petting him when a tech came over and asked me if I could just hold the dog while he gave it
a shot. What he meant by “giving a shot” was euthanizing the dog. The dog went limp in my arms without any
warning. I couldn’t believe how desensitized all of the people there were, and I decided that I never wanted to be
that way and veterinary medicine wasn’t for me.
So I went back to school that year intent on finding another animal related career so that’s when I found
anthropology. I had always been fascinated with primates, especially gorillas. So I decided to stay with biology
but pick up anthropology as a second major. I got to work with a few different primatologists, doing data entry and
such, learning about what they do. Primatology and conservation seemed really cool however it felt like it just
wasn’t enough. I felt like I needed to do more.
One night in the spring, while family was visiting, I had a date with a guy from school. I had just bought a white
shirt with a pair of white shoes to go with it specifically for the date. While I was driving to school I saw a flash on
the highway. When I looked closer I realized it was a dog that had run across and had reached the divider. I
quickly pulled over to the left and jumped out, knowing that as soon as that dog realized it couldn’t get over the
divider it would run back across the highway. But it was too late. While I was running over to him he ran back
across the highway and got hit in the head, flipped around and got hit in the hips. I ran over and grabbed him and
held him to keep him from struggling. A kind fireman pulled over and helped me get the bloody dog into the car
and I raced him over to emergency. I was kind of in shock because everything had happened so fast but after
looking down and realizing that I had blood all over my clothes, I went home to change. I walked in and my family
freaked out, and after quickly explaining what happened, my aunt said don’t worry about your shirt we can get you
a new one. All I remember thinking was, “who cares about my stupid shirt? I just hope that dog is okay.” Then
someone said to me, you know Briana most people wouldn’t have done that. And that was it, that was the
moment I realized I needed to give veterinary medicine another shot.
So I found a different clinic in my home town and started there as a kennel assistant. I couldn’t have found a
better clinic. The staff was amazing, everyone really cared about the animals, and we did a ton of rescue work,
ranging from dogs and cats to pigeons and geese.
At the time of applying to schools, I had the travel bug and wanted to experience new places and live in a different
environment. Western University in California and St. Georges University in Grenada were my top picks not only
based on location but based on the fact that I wouldn’t have to do terminal surgeries, which about half of the 28 vet
schools still do today as part of their curriculum.
To finish all my requirements I ended up going an extra semester and finishing in December. I had applied to vet
schools and was waiting to hear back in the spring however since the main office for St. Georges was actually a
few towns over, I went over to drop my application off in person. After reviewing my application they made me an
offer that if I went down in January, they would give me a $20,000 scholarship and if I got accepted to a US school
in the spring I could leave and they would refund my tuition. What a deal…I could go down and live in the
Caribbean while I was waiting to hear from schools and since my chances were slim of getting accepted out of
state, I figured what the hay either I will get accepted to Western and start over or I don’t get accepted and I’m a
semester ahead!
So I went down to Grenada and it was amazing. Living in a 3rd world country and being able to help the animals
there was really humbling. A few classmates and I raised some money to take care of the stray dogs around our
dorms and is how ended up with Fawnzarelli, the most loyal and sweet dog I have ever had.
I was doing really well in school and was having a blast with my classmates when I got the acceptance letter from
Western. When I told St. Georges about it, they told me that I received my letter after a certain date and therefore
would not get any money refunded. Plus, because Western has a problem based learning program, not of my
classes would transfer over. I was stuck in a hard position; I didn’t know how I would do with the problem based
learning style, I would be a lot more money in the hole if I started over, and I would leave all the friends I had
become close with behind. So I decided to stay.
Shortly thereafter I walked into lab one day to discover at least 20 dead piglets on the freezer floor with suture lines
on their back. There was an upper term student sitting at a table and I asked, “ what happened, why were these
pigs there?!” and she replied, “They are from the terminal surgery lab.” I was told that we didn’t have to do
terminal surgeries and the student agreed that was true but that didn’t your classmates couldn’t. I was horrified
and felt like I had been deceived. I started then looking into schools that I could transfer into and found that for any
school, I would have to go at least 3 semesters at St. Georges before a school would accept me into their second
year. So I went home that summer determined to continue to do well to be able to transfer out.
When I came back that August, my dilemma would be solved for me. Just 2 weeks into my second semester,
Grenada was hit by Hurricane Ivan and the island was nearly totally destroyed. Instead of continuing, I used that
opportunity to get out and reapply to Western. A year later I was out in California ready for a fresh start at a new
school; a new school that was everything and more I had dreamed for.
The journey to veganism…
I wasn’t born vegan. Most people aren’t. Each person has their own journey and sometimes after reaching the
point of veganism it’s easy to just turn around and point the finger at others who haven’t reached it, forgetting what
each of us had to go through to get here. Although I highly encourage a vegan diet, to reap its extraordinary health
benefits and to help reduce animal suffering, I understand that it can be a challenging change. However, contrary
to popular belief, it’s a lot easier than you think. There are a lot of fantastic meat alternatives, awesome recipes,
and you can still eat a lot of things such as chocolate (although you may have to search a little harder) plus most
restaurants have a vegan option. If you would like any advice or have any questions please don’t hesitate to email
Zarah or I, we would be more than happy to help (:
The summer before I started college, when I began thinking of pursuing veterinary medicine, I had an internal
conflict imagining myself saving the farm animals that I was just going to eat later. I felt as a veterinarian, I would
often be the only one to give a voice to an animal and it was my duty to save and protect them from harm. So
when I started college, I made the commitment and went vegetarian. A common misperception is that by going
vegetarian, because you are avoiding meat you are avoiding animal suffering because you are not killing animals
with your diet, meaning eggs and milk are just products from an animal, you aren’t actually killing the animal.
However, this is quite untrue. These chickens and cows end up being slaughtered for meat as well. And in fact,
although they may live slightly longer, they suffer much worse lives than beef or broiler chickens. This is what I
found out when I started at Western and by being friends with Zarah.
In October of my first year, we had to visit a dairy in Chino. I, like most people, kind of had an idea of what goes
on at a dairy but to be honest didn’t want to look up myself. I was content in my little world with the belief that by
being vegetarian I wasn’t hurting any animals. This belief was quickly dispelled when I stepped foot on that dairy.
In a pen was a mom with her newborn male calf. I found out that that calf, because he was male, was to be
pulled from his mom that night, put on a truck, and shipped to a farm where he would confined to a crate, tied
down by his neck and fed a diet deficient in iron so his little muscles would be soft veal meat. Sure enough, the
next day when students went back, the calves were gone. The cows were kept in knee high “mud” which was
actually more a mix of their own feces and urine. They were brought into a milking parlor where they were
crammed into milking stalls, had suction cups put on which were not well maintained as some cows left with cuts
on their teats, and when they were done they had to walk back to the mud. We saw more than one cow severely
lame. We also learned that pus, blood, and other gross stuff ends up in milk but as long as it is below a certain
amount it is okay.
I went home that night really upset and when I talked to Zarah she lent me a copy of “Peaceable Kingdom” to
watch. It is an amazing video about the development of a farm sanctuary in upstate new York, that exposes truths
of the farm animal industry. Although some of the footage is older, the poor treatment continues as I just
witnessed it yesterday, October 17, 2007 when we went to a dairy to vaccinate calves and right before my eyes, 4
month old calves were getting kicked in the face, being manhandled, and cursed at al,l the while the poor little
things were shaking with fear.
That night, after watching Peaceable Kingdom I was so upset and ashamed of what we were doing as humans to
all of these animals. The only thing that I could do to help immediately alleviate some suffering was to not support
those industries at all and so I called up Zarah and we decided to go vegan cold turkey. I have never looked back.
You as a consumer hold the power in your hands to stop the horrendous treatment of these animals. Choose
wisely. Being vegan is the best way that you can personally help animals. But if you know people who absolutely
will not go vegan, at least encourage them to use the power of their dollar and support organizations like Humane
Farm Animal Care, which labels animal products with Certified Humane, raised and handled which you can find
out about at www.certifiedhumane.org. It at least supports farms where animals get some quality of life by being
free range and getting t to exhibit some of their natural behaviors as opposed to big factory farms where the
animals are just producing machines and are nothing more than a thoughtless number.
The future…
The possibilities are endless. I eventually hope to have my own small animal practice where compassion for
animals is my top priority, and I will have the ability to practice the highest medicine with amazing patient care that
rivals even the best human care. I hope to be able to educate clients about important issues with animals
including the hundreds of thousands of dogs and cats being euthanized each year, puppy mills, unnecessary
cosmetic surgeries, animal abuse, farm animal suffering, and many more.
I hope to eventually have a farm animal rescue on long island that also doubles as a half way house for foster kids
to help them bond with animals that were abused and abandoned and to help them adjust to life on their own. I
hope to have a community education center as well as a vegan café. Maybe me and Zarah will be able to
combine our dreams and make this happen together.
I hope to be able to travel to different parts of the world and improve the lives of animals in different countries.
I hope to be able to play a big role in reducing the numbers of animals being killed in shelters and hope to improve
the welfare of farm animals.
Finally, when the time comes and my experience and knowledge allow me to step into the political arena, I hope to
become a strong advocate for animals and make the legal changes they need.
a heading so feel free to skip down and read a part that interests you. Thanks for stopping by! (:
Growing up with animals….
I grew up on the south shore of good old Long Island, New York to a wonderful but definitely unique family, with an
older sister Greta, and a younger brother Kit (which yes, puts me in the middle. And yes I have been told of a
supposed “middle child syndrome.” I don’t have it. I think.).
My parents encouraged creativity and let us paint whatever we wanted on our bedroom walls, let us pick out our
own clothes (which looking back at some old pictures, man did I have some interesting taste), and let us pursue
whatever sport or activity we wanted to. My younger brother Kit, My sister Greta, and I were taught to love and
respect nature and that every animal, wild or not, deserved a chance at life. I remember after rainstorms, going
outside and rescuing the wormies on the sidewalk who were going to drown and putting them on dry land. I would
also attempt to make worms and slugs my pets by giving them a name and putting them in jars with dirt.
However, they didn’t stay in there for long as my mom watched what I was doing and always put them back.
Many of my childhood memories revolve around an animal we had. My dad had converted a side yard into our
animal yard, where most of the wildlife we rehabilitated or rescued lived. We had a variety of animals over the
years including Sammy and Bill the seagulls, Suzette the goose (who actually turned out to be a boy), swans,
turtles, opossums, raccoons, rabbits, and of course cats and dogs. It was always amazing to me how each
animal had such different personalities. I think when there are big groups of animals, such as a herd of cows or a
flock of geese, you forget about that individuality and you just think of the mass as all one. But every time you
separate these animals out, it’s just phenomenal how each will show you how they are different from the rest.
When I was around 7 we went up to a ranch in upstate New York and till this day I remember the white pony I got
to ride named Salt. I bawled my eyes out having to leave Salt behind. That fascination with horses has never left.
When I was 13 I started volunteering at a stable, owned by a Swedish Pan American silver medalist dressage
rider, tacking up the lesson horses in turn for free riding time. My first day riding on my own, I sucked plain and
simple. I almost fell off at least 5 times. A Swedish working student Elizabeth, who was there working in
exchange for horse training with the owner, saw me struggling and after laughing for a bit asked me if I would like
some free lessons from her. Those were the most amazing lessons I have ever had and I attribute all my riding
ability to them.
Most of the time I would ride the horses that weren’t used much since I felt bad for the horses that had already had
lessons that day. This is how I met Scorpio (previously named George…yeah, I liked George better.) Scorpio
was a beautiful blood bay with a black mane and tail. He seemed to be a difficult horse so was hardly used in
lessons and is why I ended up riding him almost every Sunday.
I became strongly attached to Scorpio and we had an amazing relationship. However, he was still difficult for
people in lessons which ultimately became his downfall. I remember being told that because he was not a good
lesson horse he was going to be sold to a broker. I begged my parents to buy him but they couldn’t afford the
monthly upkeep for him. All I asked was that the barn manager would please call me to let me know when he was
sold so I could come down and say good bye. That never happened. Instead I came down for a lesson and ran
out to the barn to ride him but found his stall empty. My best friend was gone. I was devastated and did all I could
to track him down but never found him.
I didn’t really fit in well with a lot of people at the stable, including the 2 girls I would always work and ride with. The
bond with the horses was more important to me than the actual riding. I didn’t like hitting the horses; I didn’t like
using brute force to make them do things. Instead I took my time connecting with them and working up to what I
wanted and giving them rewards when I got it, which is what Elizabeth taught me. Unfortunately, though Elizabeth
went back to Sweden and I was left to start riding in the group lessons with another trainer who didn’t share these
views. I got tired of being yelled at to hit the horses and to be aggressive so I stopped riding for a long time and
only took it up again in college with the equestrian team.
I got the opportunity to do a month long internship at Monty Roberts, who wrote the Man Who Listens to Horses,
Flag is Up Farms in Solvang, California my freshman year of college. The “horse whispering” method was exactly
what I was looking for and confirmed my thought that riding is all about the connection and that a gentle hand is
the better hand.
Deciding to become a veterinarian…
I always saw myself pursuing a career that allowed me to help animals. I wanted to try veterinary medicine so I
volunteered at a clinic the summer of my freshman year of college. I was not prepared for what I would
experience. I don’t think anyone there, including the vet, even liked animals. Animals were constantly sitting for
long periods of time in dirty cages while the staff sat around and did nothing so I started cleaning cages. The
techs were rough and aggressive with the animals. And then I had the last straw. A dog was tied to a cage so I
went over and I was petting him when a tech came over and asked me if I could just hold the dog while he gave it
a shot. What he meant by “giving a shot” was euthanizing the dog. The dog went limp in my arms without any
warning. I couldn’t believe how desensitized all of the people there were, and I decided that I never wanted to be
that way and veterinary medicine wasn’t for me.
So I went back to school that year intent on finding another animal related career so that’s when I found
anthropology. I had always been fascinated with primates, especially gorillas. So I decided to stay with biology
but pick up anthropology as a second major. I got to work with a few different primatologists, doing data entry and
such, learning about what they do. Primatology and conservation seemed really cool however it felt like it just
wasn’t enough. I felt like I needed to do more.
One night in the spring, while family was visiting, I had a date with a guy from school. I had just bought a white
shirt with a pair of white shoes to go with it specifically for the date. While I was driving to school I saw a flash on
the highway. When I looked closer I realized it was a dog that had run across and had reached the divider. I
quickly pulled over to the left and jumped out, knowing that as soon as that dog realized it couldn’t get over the
divider it would run back across the highway. But it was too late. While I was running over to him he ran back
across the highway and got hit in the head, flipped around and got hit in the hips. I ran over and grabbed him and
held him to keep him from struggling. A kind fireman pulled over and helped me get the bloody dog into the car
and I raced him over to emergency. I was kind of in shock because everything had happened so fast but after
looking down and realizing that I had blood all over my clothes, I went home to change. I walked in and my family
freaked out, and after quickly explaining what happened, my aunt said don’t worry about your shirt we can get you
a new one. All I remember thinking was, “who cares about my stupid shirt? I just hope that dog is okay.” Then
someone said to me, you know Briana most people wouldn’t have done that. And that was it, that was the
moment I realized I needed to give veterinary medicine another shot.
So I found a different clinic in my home town and started there as a kennel assistant. I couldn’t have found a
better clinic. The staff was amazing, everyone really cared about the animals, and we did a ton of rescue work,
ranging from dogs and cats to pigeons and geese.
At the time of applying to schools, I had the travel bug and wanted to experience new places and live in a different
environment. Western University in California and St. Georges University in Grenada were my top picks not only
based on location but based on the fact that I wouldn’t have to do terminal surgeries, which about half of the 28 vet
schools still do today as part of their curriculum.
To finish all my requirements I ended up going an extra semester and finishing in December. I had applied to vet
schools and was waiting to hear back in the spring however since the main office for St. Georges was actually a
few towns over, I went over to drop my application off in person. After reviewing my application they made me an
offer that if I went down in January, they would give me a $20,000 scholarship and if I got accepted to a US school
in the spring I could leave and they would refund my tuition. What a deal…I could go down and live in the
Caribbean while I was waiting to hear from schools and since my chances were slim of getting accepted out of
state, I figured what the hay either I will get accepted to Western and start over or I don’t get accepted and I’m a
semester ahead!
So I went down to Grenada and it was amazing. Living in a 3rd world country and being able to help the animals
there was really humbling. A few classmates and I raised some money to take care of the stray dogs around our
dorms and is how ended up with Fawnzarelli, the most loyal and sweet dog I have ever had.
I was doing really well in school and was having a blast with my classmates when I got the acceptance letter from
Western. When I told St. Georges about it, they told me that I received my letter after a certain date and therefore
would not get any money refunded. Plus, because Western has a problem based learning program, not of my
classes would transfer over. I was stuck in a hard position; I didn’t know how I would do with the problem based
learning style, I would be a lot more money in the hole if I started over, and I would leave all the friends I had
become close with behind. So I decided to stay.
Shortly thereafter I walked into lab one day to discover at least 20 dead piglets on the freezer floor with suture lines
on their back. There was an upper term student sitting at a table and I asked, “ what happened, why were these
pigs there?!” and she replied, “They are from the terminal surgery lab.” I was told that we didn’t have to do
terminal surgeries and the student agreed that was true but that didn’t your classmates couldn’t. I was horrified
and felt like I had been deceived. I started then looking into schools that I could transfer into and found that for any
school, I would have to go at least 3 semesters at St. Georges before a school would accept me into their second
year. So I went home that summer determined to continue to do well to be able to transfer out.
When I came back that August, my dilemma would be solved for me. Just 2 weeks into my second semester,
Grenada was hit by Hurricane Ivan and the island was nearly totally destroyed. Instead of continuing, I used that
opportunity to get out and reapply to Western. A year later I was out in California ready for a fresh start at a new
school; a new school that was everything and more I had dreamed for.
The journey to veganism…
I wasn’t born vegan. Most people aren’t. Each person has their own journey and sometimes after reaching the
point of veganism it’s easy to just turn around and point the finger at others who haven’t reached it, forgetting what
each of us had to go through to get here. Although I highly encourage a vegan diet, to reap its extraordinary health
benefits and to help reduce animal suffering, I understand that it can be a challenging change. However, contrary
to popular belief, it’s a lot easier than you think. There are a lot of fantastic meat alternatives, awesome recipes,
and you can still eat a lot of things such as chocolate (although you may have to search a little harder) plus most
restaurants have a vegan option. If you would like any advice or have any questions please don’t hesitate to email
Zarah or I, we would be more than happy to help (:
The summer before I started college, when I began thinking of pursuing veterinary medicine, I had an internal
conflict imagining myself saving the farm animals that I was just going to eat later. I felt as a veterinarian, I would
often be the only one to give a voice to an animal and it was my duty to save and protect them from harm. So
when I started college, I made the commitment and went vegetarian. A common misperception is that by going
vegetarian, because you are avoiding meat you are avoiding animal suffering because you are not killing animals
with your diet, meaning eggs and milk are just products from an animal, you aren’t actually killing the animal.
However, this is quite untrue. These chickens and cows end up being slaughtered for meat as well. And in fact,
although they may live slightly longer, they suffer much worse lives than beef or broiler chickens. This is what I
found out when I started at Western and by being friends with Zarah.
In October of my first year, we had to visit a dairy in Chino. I, like most people, kind of had an idea of what goes
on at a dairy but to be honest didn’t want to look up myself. I was content in my little world with the belief that by
being vegetarian I wasn’t hurting any animals. This belief was quickly dispelled when I stepped foot on that dairy.
In a pen was a mom with her newborn male calf. I found out that that calf, because he was male, was to be
pulled from his mom that night, put on a truck, and shipped to a farm where he would confined to a crate, tied
down by his neck and fed a diet deficient in iron so his little muscles would be soft veal meat. Sure enough, the
next day when students went back, the calves were gone. The cows were kept in knee high “mud” which was
actually more a mix of their own feces and urine. They were brought into a milking parlor where they were
crammed into milking stalls, had suction cups put on which were not well maintained as some cows left with cuts
on their teats, and when they were done they had to walk back to the mud. We saw more than one cow severely
lame. We also learned that pus, blood, and other gross stuff ends up in milk but as long as it is below a certain
amount it is okay.
I went home that night really upset and when I talked to Zarah she lent me a copy of “Peaceable Kingdom” to
watch. It is an amazing video about the development of a farm sanctuary in upstate new York, that exposes truths
of the farm animal industry. Although some of the footage is older, the poor treatment continues as I just
witnessed it yesterday, October 17, 2007 when we went to a dairy to vaccinate calves and right before my eyes, 4
month old calves were getting kicked in the face, being manhandled, and cursed at al,l the while the poor little
things were shaking with fear.
That night, after watching Peaceable Kingdom I was so upset and ashamed of what we were doing as humans to
all of these animals. The only thing that I could do to help immediately alleviate some suffering was to not support
those industries at all and so I called up Zarah and we decided to go vegan cold turkey. I have never looked back.
You as a consumer hold the power in your hands to stop the horrendous treatment of these animals. Choose
wisely. Being vegan is the best way that you can personally help animals. But if you know people who absolutely
will not go vegan, at least encourage them to use the power of their dollar and support organizations like Humane
Farm Animal Care, which labels animal products with Certified Humane, raised and handled which you can find
out about at www.certifiedhumane.org. It at least supports farms where animals get some quality of life by being
free range and getting t to exhibit some of their natural behaviors as opposed to big factory farms where the
animals are just producing machines and are nothing more than a thoughtless number.
The future…
The possibilities are endless. I eventually hope to have my own small animal practice where compassion for
animals is my top priority, and I will have the ability to practice the highest medicine with amazing patient care that
rivals even the best human care. I hope to be able to educate clients about important issues with animals
including the hundreds of thousands of dogs and cats being euthanized each year, puppy mills, unnecessary
cosmetic surgeries, animal abuse, farm animal suffering, and many more.
I hope to eventually have a farm animal rescue on long island that also doubles as a half way house for foster kids
to help them bond with animals that were abused and abandoned and to help them adjust to life on their own. I
hope to have a community education center as well as a vegan café. Maybe me and Zarah will be able to
combine our dreams and make this happen together.
I hope to be able to travel to different parts of the world and improve the lives of animals in different countries.
I hope to be able to play a big role in reducing the numbers of animals being killed in shelters and hope to improve
the welfare of farm animals.
Finally, when the time comes and my experience and knowledge allow me to step into the political arena, I hope to
become a strong advocate for animals and make the legal changes they need.
