Lena drove home that night in a fog. She made dinner—pork chops, her husband’s favorite. She set the table, poured wine, and sat down across from him. The meat sat on her plate, brown and glistening. She could not lift her fork.
“I want to understand,” Lena said. “Why the crates?” Lena drove home that night in a fog
Lena had always thought of herself as an animal lover. She donated to the local shelter, scolded friends who bought from pet stores, and never missed a video of a rescued puppy finding a home. But she had never really thought about the pigs whose bacon she ate every Sunday. ” Lena said.
“Less suffering,” Lena said.