Eagle in Disguise
Animal Stories from All-Creatures.org

FROM

Maru Vigo (as posted on The Peaceable Table)
October 2016

It took more than twenty years for me to finally make the connection and see all of them under the same light; to finally understand that all living creatures are nobody’s property and are deserving of consideration and respect. Sometimes, it takes a long time to see the truth, but now that I am a vegan and an animal advocate, I can think of all those childhood lessons learned and see Jorge flying up in the sky with the eagles. At seven, I was powerless and unable to do anything to save him, but now I am happy to be one of the defenders of his kind. Now I know that he was always ahead of me in the fulfillment of our dreams.

flying chicken

I was only seven, and even though I apparently had everything my heart desired, I always felt that something was missing in my life until the day I realized what it was: a companion animal to share his life with mine. I begged my parents for one many, many times but they did not believe in keeping animals in small spaces. In fact, our apartment was not small and we certainly had enough room, but my father’s concept of “small spaces” was very particular. He had grown up in a big hacienda where animals, domestic or not, had plenty of room to roam and live, so the limitations of our apartment were not negotiable for him.

I must had been either a very persistent and perseverant girl, or the worst pest that ever existed on the face of the earth, because, after a few months, my parents finally gave in and got me a tiny chick from the market. When I look back at those times, I think they gave me a chicken to bore me to death; to exhaust my never ending energy or simply to keep me busy from bothering them with the companion animal issue for ever and ever.

My friends at school never dared to make fun of my new acquired friend but I caught them laughing secretly a couple of times. I did not care at all. I was determined to make the best out of that situation and I proceeded to give him a proper name. This task was complicated because I had no idea how you were supposed to name chickens, so I decided to wait for some personality traits to appear in order to select a proper name. The most relevant characteristic he displayed was his constant desire to fly. Many times I had to rescue him from our neighbor’s houses and more than once I had to save his life when people in the streets did not see a companion, but a meal ready to be prepared! I named him Jorge Chávez after the first Peruvian aviator to fly across the Alps in 1910.

Everyone at home used to get upset at him for flying away from the nice home I made for him in the terrace, but secretly I was proud of him and his dream to be liberated. I almost encouraged his desire to fly away and be free because, even at that early age, I firmly believed that if a creature had wings he should have been able to fly. Jorge was an eagle in disguise, and in his own particular way, he was showing me the way to be free too.

Jorge and I used to sit on top of the roof wrapped in a blanket during the humid winters in Lima and with a glass of iced lemonade during the hot summer months. Sometimes, I read to him the stories I wrote about him at school and some other times we just sat quietly, enjoying the eloquence of a silence in which he probably thought about his dreams of flying like an eagle and I thought about joining him, somehow. We were one in mind and soul and there was no void in my heart anymore.

But one day, my maternal grandmother came for a visit while I was at school. Being the dominant matriarch that she was, she proclaimed that chickens were in this planet for only one reason, and she served him to us for dinner. I hated everyone that day. I hated my grandmother, I hated my family for not standing up for me and Jorge, for not respecting the link that existed between us. I cried all night and refused to eat chicken for a while, but my small revolution only lasted for a short time. I convinced myself that, after all, the chickens I was eating were not Jorge; they were animals placed on this earth to be eaten. Maybe my grief made me unable to associate this creature that I learned to love with the others that were elaborated dishes on my table.

It took more than twenty years for me to finally make the connection and see all of them under the same light; to finally understand that all living creatures are nobody’s property and are deserving of consideration and respect. Sometimes, it takes a long time to see the truth, but now that I am a vegan and an animal advocate, I can think of all those childhood lessons learned and see Jorge flying up in the sky with the eagles. At seven, I was powerless and unable to do anything to save him, but now I am happy to be one of the defenders of his kind.

Now I know that he was always ahead of me in the fulfillment of our dreams.


Maru Vigo
Maru and a dog friend...

María (Maru) Vigo grew up in Lima, Peru, and moved to Arizona in 1987. She has been an animal rights activist on behalf of our dear furry and feathered cousins since 1980.


Return to: Animal Stories