Eaten to Death.

 It would be arrogant in the extreme to take a high stance on morality when it comes to consumption, nothing and no one is guilt free in regards to what is chosen as takeable.  To pretend otherwise is ignorant of the reality that by just being alive there is consumption by proxy, only a dead something is free from and unable to consume, but ironically it’s those very lifeless entities that are a major source of food for the living.

Consumption of fuel in the form of food is completely unavoidable if a living being is to continue thriving, so it is useless to posit an argument in respect to what an individual should or shouldn’t shove down their own throat.  To do otherwise is to take a bombastic stance that can only lead to a blowback of ridicule that’s firmly based and rooted in an equally radical point of view.

However, it’s what is done to the consumed before consumption occurs that is certainly worth risking an argument over.

Blackie the Bali Street Dog was beaten before he was eaten which would have been bad enough, but before the beating he was tortured in ways that would make his heart beat with adrenaline surges of mammoth proportions, exactly what his captors were expecting through tried and true techniques. For Blackie his new short lived home must have been an horrendous world of horror, a hellish nightmare of sufferance after being exchanged for a new plastic bucket then unceremoniously whisked away from the only comfortable existence he had known.

Dog has always been on the menu in Bali so its consumption is not a new emerging fad.  But the rate of ingestion is ramping up severely due to increased demand from an influx of Indonesians from other Islands who have arrived on the back of the tourist driven construction boom.

Blackie and up to one hundred thousand of his brethren are also sold stolen and taken because there is a growing belief among young Balinese men that dog meat has desirable levels of potency.  It is also regarded as a delicacy that is especially enjoyed after alcohol consumption.

The last look back for Blackie would have been instantaneously vaporised and replaced with blinding physical pain and psychological panic as the binding around his paws and muzzle bit deeply into flesh bone and mind.  With all hope of homely comforts gone, Blackie would have found the tightening twine around his throat and the harsh hessian sack suffocating his body, to be an intolerable insult to such a proud and unique being.  With nowhere to run and no way to move, his fate was sealed with one toss of yet another Bali Street Dog into the back of a half laden quarry of dead eyed dog meat.         

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