I Love Animals, But When It Is Bitter Cold I Wear Fur
This
winter has been bitter cold. While I’ve always doubted the science touting
global warming, this winter’s temperatures that are reminiscent of my childhood
in the 1960’s cause me even greater skepticism.
While a short walk in 10-degree weather can feel invigorating, I am not
a winter girl. I love the warmth of the sun. Absent balmy ambient temperatures,
below freezing temps cause me to luxuriate in the warmth of my politically
incorrect outerwear. Yes, I wear fur. I
love the warmth of fur. I love the feel of fur. And nothing keeps my head
warmer than my mouton hat!
I
love animals. My husband and I give shelter to 10 plus orphaned cats. All have
names; all have been spayed or neutered. All are pampered. I’ve enjoyed the
company of dogs, hamsters, a bird, a bunny and various woodland creatures.
My
dad was raised on a farm and as a child we visited my grandparents and became
acquainted with the origins of our food supply. The piglets were adorable. But
bacon and harm are tasty and pig suede makes a lovely jacket. I love the soft
dark eyes of a Black Angus cow; but I am a carnivore and appreciate a juicy
hamburger.
If I
haven’t named the animal, I can eat it or wear it. I’ve worn synthetic weather resistant
fabrics, Gore-Tex, down filled jackets, and fiberfill. But nothing keeps me
warm like my mouton hat, sheepskin gloves, and shearling coat. I don’t wear
endangered species or any member of the cat family. But mink are vermin and are
farmed for coats like cattle are farmed for steaks.
My
first fur was a hand-me-down from my maternal grandmother. I wore her mink dyed
muskrat coat in college. It was probably 30 years old then and I sewed the
dried pelts back together with any colored thread I had on hand whenever they
split. I wore that coat until it disintegrated. But I loved it because it
reminded me of my grandmother, kept me warm, and let me express my
individuality. I’ve been hooked on fur
ever since – but especially in this frigid season.
While
a segment of the population may disagree with my choice to wear fur, it is my
choice. And those who oppose it are entitled to their opinions as long as they
do not infringe upon my rights. But I’ve always wondered why those who so
self-righteously fight for the rights of animals do not instead turned their
activism and dollars towards campaigning for the rights of abused or unwanted
human children.
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