I don't have a given name, only a Procter and Gamble cage number, so why not just call me Mr Bunny for the few hours still left to me? It's December already but I'll not see Christmas Day. I've had my pre-torture checkup and been pronounced fit and well by the men and women in white coats; fit enough and well enough to be chemically burned, blinded or poisoned, then eventually killed so that these Procter and Gamble researchers can complete their reports, wash their bloodstained hands, lock up the lab and with nary a passing thought for Saint Matthew's Gospel rush off to celebrate (betray?) the advent of Christian goodness and compassion.
Yes, I've misquoted your Holy Bible, but so what? If you humans can interpret Genesis 1:26 entirely to suit your own arrogant agendas, then surely one innocent rabbit is equally entitled to misquote Matthew 25:40 to better suit his own terrified point of view. Yes, terrified. What else would I be? All these white coats are bustling around with sterile plastic hoses, long needles, and test tubes filled with toxic or corrosive liquids! So what in God's name do they have planned for me? Will they force feed chemicals by syringe directly into my stomach, rasp off a patch of skin and scrub toxins into the newly raw flesh, or immobilize me in one of their special small-animal restraints then drip corrosives into my eyes? Probably the latter because we rabbits are the victims of choice for this particular form of torture. We have large eyes for our size and this makes for easier assessment of ocular trauma. Easier for Procter and Gamble, yes! But for me there will be no anaesthetics or pain killers or easing of any kind and I'm absolutely bloody terrified. And, so help us all, these same smug Procter and Gamble scientists and their corporative Procter and Gamble masters have the audacity to equate humaneness with humanness.
[ the Animal Rights action group geographically closest to Procter and Gamble's Head Office ] and also my own local SAFE of New Zealand
|