Pedro Lilienfeld

I have avoided until now to write about a subject that is rather painful to me: animal suffering. My awareness to their predicaments probably started with my witnessing the painful death by poisoning of my beloved dog, Putzi, in Quito, when I was 14 years old. It was a shock which remained a searing memory for many years. It set up in me a contempt for humanity which I came to blame for my dog’s demise and for all the suffering inflicted on animals.

Later on, as I developed my anti religious philosophy, I came to extend my rejection of the contrived justification of theodicy to the animal kingdom. My position became that pain inflicted on animals, either by mankind or by other animals can not be justified in the presence of a caring, benevolent and yet omnipotent divinity. To me, it became further proof of the in-existence of a god.

But, how does that concern about the welfare of animals reflect on my eating habits? From 1974 on my family and I have abstained from eating lamb after seeing a baby lamb together with a dog somewhere in the South West. Starting in the 1990s, following the example of Chrissy,

Armin’s wife, we gave up on eating red meat, i.e., meat from mammals. The logic behind that abstention is, principally, that we also belong to the class Mammalia and that we are thus too closely related to animals belonging to that class. Eating mammals became equated to us as a form of intra-class cannibalism.

However, what about other animals, birds, fishes, crustaceans, etc.? Tacitly, we decided to be in denial. Evelyn and I opted for an unproven justification for eating those animals: we need that protein. I confess here that that decision and our adherence to it is basically selfish and hypocritical considering our pro-animal stance. I wish we had, from the beginning, decided to become vegetarians. For that we had the emblematic case of our grandson.

Our grandson, at age four-and-a-half, when questioning his mother about the source of meat she was serving, got terribly upset when she explained it to him. There and then he decided to abstain forever from eating any animals whatsoever. I find that precocious reaction by our grandson, and his subsequent utter consistency in remaining a vegetarian as most admirable and exemplary. It sets him apart from the vast majority of people and to a large extent defines his humanity. I wish I could emulate him.

In my autobiography I mentioned humanity’s ‘speciesm’, a term coined by Richard Dawkins, that signifies our penchant to denigrate the value of other species and therefore gives us carte blanche to misuse, mistreat, torture, devour and, in general, despise animals other than homo sapiens. There are certain cultures, in particular those surrounding the Mediterranean that unfortunately excel at speciesm. I’m referring specifically to those peoples that are of the Moslem persuasion or have been under Moslem occupation in the past. I may sound religiously/culturally prejudiced, but I witnessed the manner in which animals are treated in countries such as Morocco, Egypt, Jordan as well as Sicily and southern Spain. However, in all fairness, other countries and cultures do not fare that much better in that respect.

I do hope that humanity will reach a higher level of animal treatment enlightenment some time in the future and that our descendants will look upon us as cruel barbarians as we do when reflecting on the Ancient Roman arena animal ‘entertainments’.

I believe that we are already seeing some signs of that enlightenment as our awareness of animal intelligence progresses. This process, to some extent, parallels the process by which the ‘humanity’ of black and other dark-skinned people was gradually – yet reluctantly – accepted, first in Europe and later on in the U.S.

My most direct involvement with animals has been and continues to be the delightful companionship of dogs. I feel a deep affinity to them which I first learned from my beloved Putzi, starting at age nine. We now live with our seventh golden retriever, Gaia after a long five year hiatus after the painful loss of our preceding companion, Freya. As all sensitive owners of dogs are aware of, their short life expectancy is a sad price of our relationship with these beloved animals. Shortly after Freya’s death, I wrote a short in

memoriam about her (see above essay). Rereading it now makes me aware of the uncanny similarity of some of her behavioral traits and those of our young Gaia. It is almost like a canine clone, however, not entirely surprising since Gaia and Freya were related.

I want to mention here a rather unique publication by a notable and prolific Spanish writer, Arturo Pérez-Reverte (b. 1951) : “Perros e hijos de perra” (“Dogs and Sons-of-bitches”). Therein the author berates mercilessly and justifiably those who mistreat dogs, especially those owners who, callously, abandon their pets as if they are discardable objects. In the introduction of the book he states:

“He tenido cinco perros. No hay compañía mas silenciosa y grata. No hay lealtad tan conmovedora como la de sus ojos atentos, sus lengüetazos y su trufa próxima y húmeda. Nada tan asombroso como la extrema perspicacia de un perro inteligente. No existe mejor alivio para la melancolía y la soledad que su compañía fiel, la seguridad de que moriría por ti, sacrificándose por una caricia o una palabra.

Ningún ser humano vale lo que un buen perro. Cuando desaparece un perro noble y valiente el mundo se torna más oscuro. Más triste y más sucio”.

My translation:

“I have owned five dogs. There is no more silent and welcome company. There is no more touching loyalty as its alert eyes, its licks and its close and humid truffle. Nothing as astonishing as the extreme insight of an intelligent dog. There is no better relief for melancholy and solitude than its loyal company, the certainty that it would die for you, sacrificing itself for a caress or a single word.

No human being is worth what a good dog is. When a noble and brave dog disappears the world turns darker. Sadder and more dirty”.