The Truth (Please read, some things we can't ignore.)

This darkness...

This pain...

This madness...

Will it end?

I long for home, so deeply that it feels like a wound in my heart. I long for the rolling hills and endless woods where my life began. I long to see my pups again, and my mate. My heart lies there, with my family. And certainly not here. Here, where I am no longer free to run. These wire bars that rub and scar my face are ever present, no matter how much I beg and moan. The cold here is biting and the cramped cage that holds me here provides no shelter. I am at the mercy of the elements here so much more so than I was in the wild.

But there is something much worse than the physical pain. It's the others... They are mad. They fear each other, they despise each other. I watched...or tried not to watch. As a mother choked her newborn kittens yesterday. Maybe she thought it was best for them. If so, then she was right. Death must be better than the suffering we are subject to. Or maybe she was just insane.

I am the only one in this cage, which means I do not need to fear the other animals. But the loneliness is unbearable. Day and night, the inability to run drives my insane! I cry out, but the men that I hate, that we all hate so much, act as if I do not exist. The cruelty that I feel in the air around them is almost overpowering.

Morning breaks over another bitter day. The wind howls endlessly through the strange trees, and soon the clouds burst. Rain lashes against my face, but the cats whose fur can not protect them are worse off than me. They huddle in the corners of their enclosure, their fur on end and their backs arched. They yowl and screech, their eyes wide and lifeless, always cast towards the sky. I watch them for a while, and feel their despair seep into my own soul. Terrible thoughts and images begin forming in my mind. Oh, my children! I hope so dearly that they are safe, my beautiful ones whom I will never see again. And then somehow, I sleep.

We are lost

No one will save us

We are lost

I awake. The rain has stopped, and I think that perhaps it is the lack of noise that caused me to wake. But then I realise what it really is. Somewhere near me a gate is opened, and slammed shut again. A man emerges grasping a struggling creature by its back legs. The mink writhes desperately in the mans hands, but he is strong, far stronger than the creature. My stomach convulses at what I see next, until I can watch no more. I turn away, but still I can hear what is happening. With each loud thump the mink squeaks piteously, until finally the noise stops. The animal is dead.

One by one the men haul us out of our cages, one by one we die. Some are luckier than others, and die quickly. Some are not so lucky. Every time I hear the sound of a gate opening, closing, the thumping, the screams of animals, my feeling of dread grows. The bodies are tossed onto a pile, whether the animal is dead or alive. Cage by cage, they draw closer to me.

Finally, my turn comes. I scream, I scratch, I bite, I kick, I howl. Nothing will stop them. They take my by my legs and slam me against the ground, without releasing my legs. I whimper as my skull cracks and crimson blood stains my once beautiful coat. The movement is repeated, again and again. I take a shuddering breath, ignoring the sickening pain in my ribs. Finally, when they decide they have done enough, I feel the edge of a knife in my leg. I cry out, a sound that sounds unnatural coming from any creature on earth. No! This is to much! What gives them the right to mutilate us so grotesquely? I cry out again as the knife goes deeper. I feel it slicing through my leg, across my body until I can not pinpoint it anymore. Suddenly I realise, the pain is not just in the tip of the knife, it's in my skin. They are peeling it away from me, tearing me in two. My muscle and organs are exposed, the beating of my heart is more prominent than it has ever been in my life. Everything about this is sickening.

Suddenly I am tossed carelessly onto a heap of others. Their skin has been peeled away from their body, most of them are already dead. I move my eyes feebly as a man glances over at us, at me. Our eyes meet for no more than a second, and in that glance I understand how they can bear to do this. They do not see us for what we are, we are merely objects to them. Money in their wallets and food on the table. We are meat to them, created only to fulfill their needs. A fur coat.

A fur coat. With this thought in mind, I die.

I wanted to die peacefully, in my rolling hills and my endless wood. With my mate by my side knowing that my pups are safe and free. I wanted to die with a wild wind blowing through my fur and peace in my heart. These men took that wish away from me. I am no longer a red fox, I am a lump of meat.

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