Why Are We So Upset About Eating the Dogs?

The Curious Case of Pets, Plates, and our Contradictory View on Animals

Sep 27, 2024

Welcome back to Slow Dinners! You’re just in time, and we’ve saved you a seat. Tonight, we’re diving into a question that’s bound to stir things up a bit: why do we love some animals and eat others? It’s a topic we don’t often think about, but once you start, it opens up all sorts of interesting conversations.

Picture this: you’re scrolling through the internet, minding your own business, when you stumble across a website called Elwood’s Dog Meat. The sleek design, the farm-fresh promises—it looks like your typical meat supplier, except they’re selling something a bit more... unsettling. Dog meat.

Shocked? You’re not alone. The idea of eating a dog feels unthinkable. But here’s where it gets interesting. Elwood’s Dog Meat is satire, a clever way to force us to confront an uncomfortable question: why are we repulsed by the idea of eating dogs, but perfectly fine with eating cows, pigs, or chickens? It’s a question that cuts right to the heart of something called speciesism—the idea that we value some animals over others, often for reasons we’ve never really questioned.

It’s a strange thought, isn’t it? The animals we pamper, name, and let sleep on our beds are no different, in many ways, from the ones we put on our plates. And yet, most of us never stop to think about why that is. Tonight, we’re going to think about it.

The US Debate: They’re eating the dogs!

Let’s jump to a recent headline that caused quite a stir—Donald Trump, during a debate, claimed that Haitian immigrants were coming to the U.S. and eating people’s pets. Outrage ensued. People were horrified. The idea of eating a dog? Pure, unfiltered disgust.

But here’s the kicker: most of the people horrified by that idea probably had a burger on their plate at the time. And that’s where things get tricky. Why is the idea of eating a dog met with horror, but eating a pig—or a cow—barely raises an eyebrow?

Pigs are known to be as intelligent as dogs, maybe even more so. Yet we treat one as a beloved pet and the other as bacon. It’s not about intelligence, personality, or even the ability to suffer—it’s about where we’ve drawn the lines. Speciesism at its finest.

Elwood Dog Meat: Satire with a Sting

This is where Elwood's Dog Meat comes in. It’s satire, sure, but it holds up a mirror to our choices. Their website looks just like any trendy farm-to-table meat supplier—except they’re selling dog meat instead of beef or pork. You’ve got phrases like "locally sourced," "free-range," and "ethically raised," which sound familiar, right? These are the same words used to make us feel better about eating other animals. As a fun exercise, see if you can spot differences with Organic Valley or the The Ethical Butcher.

Elwood’s Dog Meat forces you to ask yourself: why does the idea of eating a dog make your skin crawl, but eating a cow or pig feels normal? We tend to separate animals into two categories—food and not food—but when you really think about it, those lines are arbitrary. A dog and a cow both have the same capacity to suffer, to experience fear, and to want to live. So why is one treated like a friend and the other like a commodity?

“But We’ve Always Eaten Animals…”

I hear this a lot: “But we’ve always eaten animals!” And yes, historically, that’s true. But just because something is natural doesn’t make it right. There was a time when a lot of things were considered natural—like, say, denying women the right to vote or enslaving other humans. As societies progress, we challenge old norms and adapt to new moral understandings.

The same goes for eating animals. It’s not enough to say "we’ve always done it," because we now know more than we did hundreds of years ago. We know that animals are sentient beings capable of suffering. We know that factory farming is a nightmare not only for the animals but for the planet. And yet, we hold onto traditions that no longer reflect what we claim to value—kindness, compassion, and justice.

But What About Tradition?

Food is often wrapped up in tradition, and tradition is a powerful thing. For many, it’s tied to culture, family, and identity. I’m not saying you need to toss your grandma’s recipes into the bin. But let’s be real: not all traditions are worth preserving. We’ve outgrown a lot of outdated ideas—like duels at dawn or corsets—and we can rethink the way we treat animals too.

If we really value compassion and fairness, then it’s worth questioning why some animals end up on our plates while others sleep at the foot of our beds. Traditions are only as good as the values they serve. When we know better, we do better.

Why Is Your Pet Not on Your Plate?

Here’s the thing: we’ve been conditioned to see animals in categories, without ever questioning why. The idea of eating a dog horrifies us because we’ve decided that dogs are special. But pigs? Chickens? Cows? They aren’t so different—they’re just animals we’ve been told are okay to eat. The more you think about it, the stranger that distinction seems.

I’m not saying everyone needs to go vegan overnight (though it wouldn’t hurt). But once you start seeing these contradictions for what they are, it’s hard to unsee them. If eating a dog feels wrong—and most of us would agree that it does—then maybe it’s time to look at the rest of our food choices with the same level of scrutiny.

Equality scale — Equality Scale. Life is equal but labels tell us otherwise

Final Thoughts: Questioning Our Choices

This isn’t about guilt-tripping anyone into changing their habits overnight. It’s about starting a conversation. If we’re horrified by the idea of eating a cat, then we owe it to ourselves to ask why we’re okay with eating animals that are just as capable of suffering. Maybe it’s not about tradition or culture—maybe it’s just something we’ve never questioned.

Speciesism, like any form of discrimination, thrives in silence. The more we challenge it, the closer we get to living in alignment with the values we claim to hold. After all, if we care about animals—and let’s be honest, most of us do—then it’s time we start acting like it.