Michael Budkie,
Stop Animal
Exploitation NOW! (SAEN)
September 2012
Sometimes it is almost too much. The triggers are so different.
Post-mortems, protocols, reports. The end is always the same.
To fully understand, to really see the pain, you must know that death has
visited me recently. Within the last year I have lost several feline
friends. Smurphy who can only be called ancient, for a cat, probably 22; and
George also ancient for a feline at 19. Two friends old both in years and in
relationship. Both part of my family for too many days to count. Good
friends who lived long and good lives, now gone. Both passed away as I cared
for them, sitting in my lap.
Smurphy and George
I found this report and can’t stop thinking about it…an inspection report
for a lab, with only one violation, one non-compliance – a fatal one.
A laboratory called
Southwest Bio-Labs broke the law, only once, in October of 2011.
Apparently there was a faulty thermostat. The temperature got too high. Ten
cats died, cooked to death. But I can’t see ten cats, I can only see two, my
old friends Smurphy and George, feeling the heat, passing out, passing away,
again and again. It is as if I must relive their deaths, made much more
painful, endlessly. The memories of my friends turn to ashes as I feel them
burn, and at the same time my soul turns to dust.
It doesn’t always take a long time to make a friend. Sometimes you don’t
even know their names. After years of anticipation I have finally just
toured a primate sanctuary that cares for several different types of macaque
monkeys. Macaque monkeys are the type of monkeys who are most often used in
laboratories. Some think they aren’t as cuddly; they clearly aren’t chimps.
But when you look into their eyes, you can see their souls. They have
relationships, friendships, even with humans. I’ve seen this now, and it
cannot be forgotten.
And now, after experiencing them up close, after seeing their eyes, I
understand their suffering even more. This is when I read about the February
2012 criminality of the Massachusetts Eye & Ear Infirmary. In five pages of
illegalities that I read about monkeys, probably macaques, just like the
ones whom I have just met, bleeding to death. Experimental procedures at
this lab required cutting holes into monkeys’ skulls, and during these
projects they died, unexpectedly, of exsanguination. Their lives flowed out
of their intentionally inflicted injuries until there was no more.
It is as if they have taken the lives of my friends. They are not just
animals, I have looked into their eyes and seen through to the other side.
And I have held my friends as they died. But that was on a scale that was
almost bearable, one at a time. At Southwest Biolabs, ten cats, Georges and
Smurphys, died. There is no excuse, no apology, and only a single violation.
These Georges and Smurphys didn’t know a loving hand; they didn’t die in the
lap of a family member. They expired in an overheated room because no one
paid attention. And no one will even mourn them, but you and me. And the
monkeys fared no better. They lived in stainless steel boxes until their
lives flowed out of their veins due to carelessness.
It would be easy to be angry -- easy to curse, easy to yell, easy to hate.
Vengeance is the easy way out. Anger is a fire that consumes the soul,
leaving only emptiness. These victims do not crave anger; they would not
want more death. They look for no more victims, no matter which side they
come from. They want only compassion. If they could, they would ask us for
the love they were denied, the touch that they missed, the laps they never
had a chance to sit in. The monkeys want the trees they never saw, the
families they were denied. Victims seek the beginning of justice, not more
victims.
What do we feel when a loved one dies? We experience a gaping hole in our
lives where they used to be. We miss our friends, our family. It doesn’t
matter if the friend or family member is human. And I cannot speak for
anyone but myself, but losing a friend does not move me to want more death.
Our world is already filled with death; we need not make it overflow.
So, as we decide what we must do, as we look for answers, as we try to move
forward, we must ask ourselves, how? What would they ask of us?
Now, as I sit here and read those inspection pages again, I ask myself, what
do they want? As images of George and Smurphy and eight of their friends
slowly dying of heat prostration in steel cages in a lab in New Mexico, and
pictures of the monkeys I just met bleeding to death, move through my mind,
I ask, what do they want? What do they want from me? Compassion would have
freed them. Caring would have opened the cages. Empathy would have put them
into a better place.
These are the things that they demand of us. Compassion for them, for
ourselves, and for those we oppose. We cannot expect others to exercise
compassion if we do not show it to them. There can be no discussions if both
sides are yelling. The war will never end if everyone insists on death.
“An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind.” (Gandhi)
If we are all to see the truth, we need look no further than to look into
their eyes, see their souls. Hold a cat in your lap, and you know that they
are not designed for cages or experiments, only for companionship. Meet a
monkey and you will see that they are not designed for lives in stainless
steel boxes; they are for trees.
Denying their very natures, demeaning them to the level of objects,
considering them tools, this is hate. Hate put them into cages; it will not
take them out.