In offense of veganism

Someone just told me she was a vegan. My gut reaction was to beat her up. Yet, since I am humane, I decided to write my rage instead of act upon it. 

When someone tells me she doesn't eat meat, or any part of any animal, and she never even hurts an animal's feelings, I want to puke. 

Yes, I agree that we don't need as much of it as we eat. The way we treat our food-animals in this country really sucks, and that's one of the reasons why I stay far away from McDonald's. But I don't think it's cruel to eat our furry friends because they don't have people feelings, so making burgers out of them isn't mean. 

My favorite argument about why people shouldn't enjoy the pleasures of bacon is that pigs are as smart as second-graders. I wonder two things: One, what encompasses "smart" in this equation, because pigs can neither come up with crazy witticisms (like Jef Otte's 7-year-old son Avry who told a grown-up to shut up or he was going to walk in his mouth). Nor do pigs get really proud of themselves when they stop wetting the bed. And two, have the people who use this argument ever actually met a pig? 

My brother-in-law works with pigs and he told me that they frequently have to make sure the pigs are scratch-free—not because they are concerned about infection, but because if other pigs smell blood on one pig, they will rip it to shreds. Same goes for chickens. And cows eat their own barf. 

So why are we trying to treat these delicious animals like toddlers when they're obviously more like inhuman cannibals? 

In conclusion, you ma'am—or, even worse, sir—are an idiot.