My brief, unpleasant encounter with a PETA nut job.

Being a champion of animals is noble, don’t you think? The brave and just who speak out when they see abuse or neglect or suffering are heroes. No question. But the ones who willfully misrepresent reality are extremists endangering their own cause. Those extremists usually belong to PETA.

Not long ago I had an encounter with just such a PETA wacko, when she left a scribbled note on my windshield. In it I was berated for leaving my dog in the car on a summer afternoon. My jaw dropped. I’d been gone six minutes, eight tops.

At just that moment, a car pulled up beside me. The woman in it began castigating me, again for leaving the dog in the car. I interrupted and asked if she wrote the note on my windshield? She proudly said she had, indeed. I asked if she happened to notice that the car was running? That the air conditioning was on? She said I should have left him at home. I asked if she knew he had separation anxiety? If she knew he was a screamer? If she knew we’d be thrown out of our apartment if I left him there alone? She didn’t see that as relevant. I said my other option was having him put down. Would that work with her agenda? She huffed, drove away, and promptly reported me to animal welfare.

I don’t support PETA. The goals of the organization are admirable. The tactics they use to pursue those goals, however, are questionable and troubling. I mean, there are animal lovers and then there are over zealous lunatics just looking for a cause. The two should not mix, at least that’s how I see it. PETA, of course, would disagree.

Copyright © Publikworks 2011.

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