As I child, I loved fishing with my father. Then, at about the age of ten, my attitude began to change. Formerly, I enjoyed the tug of the fish against the line, but then it began to feel weird. Next, I realized that I was torturing the fish by pulling its entire mass at one point, by means of a piece of metal through its mouth. When the fish was brought to the surface, I noticed the significant tearing that the hook at caused to its mouth, and I was upset.
My final step in my growing disdain for fishing was the realization that the process started by emotionally torturing the fish. A worm or other animal had been placed on the hook as bait. A hungry fish, seeking to fulfill its need for food, assumed that it had found what it needed. However, one frightening moment later, it found itself being terrified and in pain, as a foreign object began to pull it upward. In terror, it tried to get away from the fright and panic, but to no avail.
Did I really want to treat animals this way? Was this how I wanted to live and think? Wouldn't it be more fun to look down into the lake, on a placid morning or evening, and just watch the fish swimming around?
Have a good veggie day, everyone.