Because the World Needs Another Article About Not Going Vegan

I'm not keeping track, but I'm sure that if I were the type to count on my fingers and toes that I'd long since have stopped being able to log these articles about nothing which present themselves as somehow having anything to do with going vegan. Tim O'Shea's bit in the Concord Monitor ("My so-called vegan life") is yet another to throw into the pit with the rest of them.

These articles, opinion pieces, columns or newspaper blog posts usually split into two general types. On one hand, you have those who are just trying to take a swipe on some level or another at vegans or those who in any way weigh the issues surrounding the exploitation of nonhuman animals seriously. The tone of many of these pieces ranges from mild mockery to outright hostility. On the other hand, you have the more innocuous-seeming articles by people who may (or may not be) be well-intentioned but who at least keep the barbs and schoolyard comments in check. Many of these articles are still these unfortunate fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants excuses to squeeze out copy that presents itself as offering up any sort of useful or valid information on veganism or on what's involved in going vegan. Too many are just heaps of misinformation cloaked in good intentions. Whether hostile or not, the articles frequently present veganism as a diet, often side-step animal rights issues as being at the heart of going vegan, invariably present eating vegan as self-imposed deprivation, and almost always go to great lengths to emphasis the deliciousness and irresistibility of meat, cheese and other animal products.

O'Shea's article definitely falls into the former camp, with the level of derision in it vacillating between gormless and mean-spirited. It's entirely focused on diet, and aside from a token mention of "ethics" as a motivator to go vegan (tucked in between "health" and "because, well, their girlfriend suggested it"), no time is wasted in actually discussing what animal use entails. O'Shea instead begins by bemoaning various things vegans can't eat (including mashed potatoes, for some reason) using words like "forbidden" to describe nonvegan foods and "hardcore" to describe those who avoid bone char-processed sugar. Avoiding nonvegan food = restrictive and extremist.

O'Shea's so-called vegan experiment was, of course, limited to food and was meant to last no longer than a whopping two whole weeks. How did he get ready for it? Apparently, with a few Google searches and by writing it all off as awful before he had even begun. He writes: "I didn't do much preparation other than find a paperback vegan cookbook, conduct some web research and brace myself for my first taste of soy milk." He bemoans his black coffee (because vegans obviously don't use sweeteners or whiteners in coffee) and plain brown rice cakes (because vegans obviously champion the taste of cardboard), as well as the wretchedly awful reality of being forced to eat meatless salads deprived of stinky blue cheese dressing (since salads without meat and stinky blue cheese dressing are naught but so much wilted lettuce). He bemoans the lack of vegan options spontaneously manifesting themselves his cupboards but adds that "we [sic] vegans are creative" and explains how to make a bowl of cereal using almond milk. Any other forays into cooking he makes, he portrays as disgusting, adding that "when you're subsisting on twigs and apricots, you'll seek any safe harbor". A vegan waffle is "supple burlap". A black bean burger ordered at a restaurant is the "vile bastardization of the all-American meal".

And somehow, it's after all this that he asserts that "something went horribly wrong". After one week of a badly-planned attempt to eat a strict vegetarian diet, he throws a dinner party complete with the aforementioned purportedly irresistible animal products which customarily get referenced at some point in articles like O'Shea's, and of course O'Shea finds himself -- in his own home, at his own dinner party -- with nothing but cucumbers and bread to eat, so gives in and gorges himself with gusto on pig and chicken flesh. Shortly thereafter on a trip to NYC, still during his two-week-long supposed attempt at something he mislabels going vegan, O'Shea lumps himself in with vegans again while trying to excuse away what he asserts none but the most "pure" of vegans could possibly resist:

All the willpower in the world faded away as my environment surrounded me. I'd like to tell you I was pure, the pinnacle of principled veganism, but after the bagel with cream cheese, the steak slathered in garlic butter, the turkey BLT with mayo, the bucket of beef brisket nachos and the three pieces of classic New York pizza, I'd only be fooling myself. Yet I dare any vegan among us who's claimed to resist such temptation to cast the first fiddlehead.

Somehow, though, O'Shea insists on continuing to present himself as being "vegan" during the rest of his two-week experiment, post meat/egg/dairy-bacchanalia, mentioning trying to "reclaim [his] vegan pride" while complaining about the disgustingness of quinoa, potatoes, bananas and peanut butter and describing himself on his supposedly last day "as a vegan" as full of anxiety and in "gastric distress". He slips in that his wife even commented on his body odour, as if somehow not eating animal products was responsible. He sums the experiment up as a failure (no, really?) and leaves his readers with this summary of what being vegan inevitably entails:

I spent my days either dreaming of deli meat snacks as my hummus-filled stomach grumbled like low-rolling thunder, or I gorged myself on an anti-vegan menu in fits of delirious indiscretion, justifying my actions through a combination of deceit, rationalization and head fakes. It's no way to live - this vegan life.

It's unfortunate that O'Shea should fancy himself an expert mouthpiece on what being vegan is like when nothing -- not a single stinking thing -- about his experiment involved veganism on any level whatsoever. In the end, sadly, it's just one more article to throw on to the ever-growing pile of mainstream writings in the media both misrepresenting and maligning a way of life which is so simple, so right, so healthy and which is so far-removed from the self-infliction of misery that O'Shea would have you believe it is.

If you haven't already done so, please consider going vegan. By this I don't mean O'Shea's half-arsed newspaper-filler-producing temporary meat-fest fantasy take on it, but that you actually and earnestly go vegan.

What This Vegan Eats

I've been quite lax about posting recently, thanks to being on vacation and indulging in various distractions. At the very least, I guess that I can share some of the bland and uninteresting fare I've been eating the past while to maintain my unhealthy, sickly vegan self:

Romaine lettuce, tomatoes, pickled mild banana peppers, radishes, sweet onion vinaigrette, ground flax.

Tofu marinated in tamari and lemon pepper, cherry tomatoes, parsley and a mix of organic ketchup and sriracha.

Pita pizza with mushrooms, onions, garlic, green bell pepper, pickled hot banana peppers, sliced tomatoes, nutritional yeast sauce, basil & dried chipotle.

Lima bean soup with carrots, collards, hot banana peppers, garlic, scallions, Indian chili powder and dill weed. A half-cob of corn sprinkled with some Louisiana hot sauce.

Stir-fried Asian veggies and udon noodles with a super-spicy coconut curry sauce.


Pita pizza with roasted garlic red sauce and fennel seed, Gardein chunks, black olives, Spanish onions, hot banana peppers, Cheddar Daiya.

Broccoli, green peppers, mushrooms, chickpeas and garlic stir-fried with a bit of tamari. Quinoa with a dollop of salsa.

Romaine lettuce, tomatoes, shredded carrots, radishes, green peppers, Spanish onion, steamed broccoli, hot banana peppers from the garden -- all on a hidden bed of quinoa. I drizzled lemon juice, olive oil and crushed garlic over it before serving.


Wild blueberries blended with almond milk, topped with banana slices and plain soy yogurt.

Chickpea salad w/roasted garlic dressing and diced Claussen dill pickles, tomato and mustard in a whole grain pita. Fries (a rarity for me) and steamed organic carrots and peas on the side.

Carrot slaw, barely steamed broccoli, shredded collards, radishes, tomato, scallions, hot banana peppers from the backyard, cucumber. Tossed with a Dijon balsamic vinaigrette.

Spinach-sweet potato soup with quinoa and Indian seasonings.

Hitting at the Heart of the Problem

Every day that we live, we remake the world. The question is, are we remaking the world in the way that we really want it to be? Would we prefer that animals be nicely treated commodities, still exploited, albeit more gently, or would we prefer that the world be vegan, and recognize the inherent worth of animals as beings with their own subjective experience of the world?

If we want a vegan world, we have to work to produce one, and the only way to produce one is by living one uncompromisingly on a daily basis. Vegan education works to effectively remodel social relations, and to hit at the heart of the problem with animal exploitation. For this reason, our work should focus on the inglorious, quotidian work that’s required for creating a broad-based movement of people who live abolition in their daily life, who work to change the conditions that condemn animals to being mere instruments and property, and who work to educate others about the importance of veganism as a lived form of protest. No amount of negotiating with KFC or McDonald’s or whatever fast food restaurant will have such an impact; no amount of banning gestation crates, or producing cage free eggs will get us there. Only veganism can bring the kind of world we’re after, and only veganism can be the means if we are truly serious about respecting the inherent needs of animals to live free of exploitation and suffering.

-- Excerpt from "All We Have Is Means" by Bob Torres (co-author of Vegan Freak: Being Vegan in a Non-Vegan World)

Reckoning

"It's time. You need to come home," my brother-in-law said to me on the phone. My brother-in-law had never called me before. We ironed out that I'd hop on the bus immediately and that he'd pick me up and rush me to the hospital once I arrived. I called a few close friends who'd made themselves so kindly and wonderfully available to me to ensure that the cats would be looked after, I packed a bag, and then I walked to the nearby bus depot, breathing in/breathing out.

I had just been there. I had been there so often over the previous months and more so during recent weeks. Dad had been drifting in and out of consciousness for several days, lost somewhere between the hallucinations brought on by the hypercalcemia caused by his multiple myeloma, as well as those caused by the generous dosage of morphine he'd been given to ease the time he'd had left. I was returning. It was time for 'round the clock vigils, to make sure that Dad had family with him, that he wouldn't die alone. My shame? That I didn't want to be there for it. I feared it. I did not want to witness my father's ceasing to be.

My sister sat in a chair beside his bed, where he lay breathing quite raspily, nearly immobile, his arms bent and pulled up close to his chest, with his hands cupped and almost leaving him looking as if he could wake up and dive into a dog paddle. I paced, tired from my day at work and with muscles tight from the hours on the bus. My sister told me that he'd had brief moments of consciousness over the previous days, but that the doctors anticipated that between the wear of the drugs on his system and of the cancer itself, all we could hope for at this point was for him to "pass" easily and painlessly. Nobody loves a death rattle, so they'd even given him drugs to quiet his rasp a little. "It's customary," the nurse had assured me.

Dad sat up in bed abruptly, his eyes wide and alert and with arms suddenly outstretched. He was driving. After a beat I tentatively asked him where he was going. My sister rolled her eyes at me, continuing to work on her crossword puzzle. He grinned at me in the sly way I remembered from when I was younger and he'd tease us. He motioned as if pulling up to a stop and proceeded to indulge in some sort of mysterious interaction which I recognised as some sort of shopping errand. In French, he proceeded to hold up his end of a conversation with what I quickly realized was a jeweler, making it obvious that he was shopping for a new watch. Politely, he'd ask to try one after the other, comparing the time on his bare (to me) wrist with the time on the clock on the wall of his hospital room, declining one after another. "Bonjour. Ah non, merci." I tried to insert myself into the exchange -- to help. I asked him what he was doing, and he told me (again in French) that he was "buying time". My sister protested to me that he was tiring himself out and that I wasn't "helping". Soon, though, he and I found a watch he deemed satisfactory and he seemed relieved, finally relaxing against his pillows. He told me that he was thirsty, so I walked over to the bathroom off his room to get him some water in a paper cup.

"Mylène?"

I stepped back out of the washroom surprised to have heard him speak my name for the first time in several weeks. I looked at him, my sweet father sitting up again and staring intently at me, seeming so lucid and so concerned.

"Oui?"

"Es-tu bonne pour continuer?"

Dad asked, in effect, if I was "good to go on". I assured him that yes, I really was. My sister insisted again with annoyance that I was tiring him out, ignoring him completely and oblivious to the entire exchange. He sat back in his bed and I brought him his water and he drank a little and fell back asleep. My uncle came to relieve us a half hour later and my sister and I went to my parents' house just a few minutes from the hospital, on call.

A few hours later, that call came. His temperature was up, his breathing irregular -- we needed to return. My mother, for some reason or other, had blood tests scheduled for the next morning and had been asked to fast. She was in the washroom, sick to her (empty) stomach when my father sat up one last time, looking straight at the clock on the wall in front of him and reaching out with one arm in front of him as if to grab hold of something. He wheezed and sighed deeply, then curled up against me and I held him. My father died in my arms four years ago as I write this. I remember the heat leaving his body as I held him. I remember clinging to that heat and ignoring the nurses who came in to do as gently as they could what nurses do to confirm that someone you love is gone.

I miss you, good and gentle lumberjack. I miss our shared geekiness. I miss watching Nova with you on PBS and miss sharing your OMNIs with you. I miss you telling me all about stars and pointing them out in constellations with the telescope you bought for me, kidding me that I was going to be your "little astronaut". I miss getting up so very early on Saturday morning when you'd make us both toast and cocoa and then read your science fiction books as I watched cartoons, everyone else in the house still fast asleep and with the morning all ours. I miss you teaching me to be kind to others, human and non-human. And later, I miss how you'd assure Mom that the books I brought home as a teenager were fine, whether Sartre or Satanic Bible, and that I was able to suss them out myself. I miss how excited you got over my going off to university, and how years after I had faltered and returned again to finally finish my degree, you were still excited and wanted me to share with you whatever I was learning -- to explain each and every thing to you. I miss that so much, every single day. So today, of all days, how could I not think of you?

(Not) Veganism in the Media

HSUS' Wayne Pacelle has been making the rounds recently to promote his book, The Bond: Our Kinship with Animals; Our Call to Defend Them. The articles I've been reading here and there about his various appearances have not offered up anything surprising; they've mostly reflected his continued commitment to ensuring that Americans feel more comfortable about using non-human animals. This recent piece in Michigan's Lansing State Journal, for instance, turned up more of the same. Strangely enough, the article starts off quoting Pacelle as saying that "we [...] need to be mindful and intentional in a society where our attitudes toward animals are conflicted and contradictory". Given the conflicted and contradictory messages HSUS has been disseminating over the years, Pacelle's plea for mindfulness and an associated thoughtful intentionality when it comes to how we think of non-human animals seemed ironic at best -- and disingenuous at worst.

The article's emphasis seems largely placed on Pacelle's great "passion" and charisma. I've no doubt that HSUS' president and CEO is still able to seem enthusiastic while engaging with ease in essentially churning out the same old message he's been churning out for years now. Pacelle's become adept at reassuring people that HSUS is no "us" to the general public's "them" -- that everyone, regardless of actual concrete follow-through has some sort of good intention, and that this good intention is enough.

People of every background and experience have a passionate connection to animals and they want to do something to make the world better for them.

And just what sort of people share Pacelle's "passionate connection" to animals and want "to make the world better for them"? People like attendee Gita Mahabir, who insists that she's "not like a crazy animal person" but that she "just do[es]n't like to see things [sic] suffer". Basically, Pacelle's message is palatable to people who view those who take the rights of non-human animals seriously as nuts. In repeatedly dodging opportunities to talk to the public about going vegan, Pacelle also implicitly endorses this mindset.

How exactly does Pacelle manage to obtain and hang on to the attention -- and financial support -- of people like Mahabir? By making it clear to them that to walk shoulder-to-shoulder with almighty defender Pacelle, you need not worry yourself about being lumped in with the "crazy animal people" who choose not to use animals. Although he asserts that that eating is a moral act, his interpretation of its morality completely sidesteps exploring the notion that anyone should consider the bother of depriving themselves of the taste of animal flesh and secretions.

It doesn't mean you have to be a vegetarian but you have to be conscious and perhaps buy products from farmers who are raising animals humanely [sic].

According to the article, his book contains "50 ideas to help animals" with "many" actually involving cutting back on animal consumption. I wonder how many times Pacelle actually brings up not using animals as a possible way to "help" those locked into this cycle that inevitably ends in their slaughter? (I haven't read it, but would be happy to do so and to give it an earnest review if somebody wanted to send me a copy. A bonus: I own a good shredder!)

So hey, Wayne? Instead of suggesting to people that they "perhaps buy products from farmers who are raising animals humanely" and presenting it as the very least they can do, how about offering veganism as your so-called "prescription" for the immorality of what we're putting billions of non-human animals through every single year? Is it really so far-fetched to consider telling your HSUS donors that not using non-human animals altogether is even a viable option? Is it really so unfathomable to present not using non-human animals at all as the only truly "humane" option when it comes to whether or not we should treat animals like things and continue to breed them for slaughter? C'mon? Think about it.

"It's Just Food"

I've written a few times about precisely how not a fan I am of over-hyped short-term so-called "vegan" challenges or cleanses that are usually kick-started with an emphasis on health and weight loss. I occasionally get into the same old tired discussions with non-abolitionist animal advocates over why I'm not, countering their assertions that "any exposure for 'veganism' is good exposure" or that any experience "going" vegan is a potential opportunity for an individual to actually "stay" vegan. The thing is, though, that not eating animal products for three weeks isn't "going vegan". Veganism involves making an ethical lifestyle choice--a step taken to reject living a life that involves the avoidable exploitation of other animals. It's not something tried on like a pair of socks with the intention from the very beginning to go back to consuming (and otherwise using) non-human animals.

Going vegan should, at the very least, involve some sort of intention to stay vegan. Weight loss dieting or health-related cleanses have their place, no doubt, but as primary motivators anticipated to trigger someone's completely and permanently eschewing the exploitation of all non-human animals, eaten or otherwise? I don't really buy it. This may sound like a stretch to some, but I honestly think that the best way to get someone to take the rights and interests of non-human animals seriously is to actually talk to them about why they should take the rights and interests of non-human animals seriously.

I read an article earlier today which served as a reminder to me of why it's problematic to give much credence to faddish short-term public experimentation with what is what is usually just strict vegetarianism. In her Petoskey News article "Vegans are people too", staff writer Rachel Brougham spills the beans that she's a third of the way into a "three-month vegan challenge". Although in her previous articles, Brougham repeatedly refers to her project as following a "vegan diet", she portrays herself in this recent one as identifying with what she describes as the typically stereotyped and judged vegan. She refers to herself as being "vegan" while sharing stories of her interactions with food service employees and dismissive eavesdropping fellow-customers in eating establishments.

There is indeed a fair amount of truth to her realization that far too many assumptions are often made by non-vegans about vegans and that, all too often, those assumptions spill out with awkwardness and hostility. Nonetheless, her inserting this into the article seems a little contrived. It's as if she hopes to cash in some vegan cred of sorts by identifying with what she portrays as ordinarily mocked and maligned vegans--as if she seeks to give some further sense of validity to her entire experience. The thing is, though, that Brougham's experience is far from that of being vegan, or of even understanding veganism in an ethical sense. It's certainly far removed from understanding veganism in an abolitionist sense:

For me, following a vegan lifestyle isn’t about being right or wrong. It’s not about being sane or crazy. It’s not about following a trend or going against the grain. I’m not making a political statement and this isn’t something I’m being forced into as — quite literally — a matter of life or death. It’s simply a different way of living that makes me and countless others feel better.

Although her statement sounds well-intentioned and some parts of it make a sense, it certainly doesn't convey an understanding of what's at stake for animals for whom it is actually a matter of life or death whether or not we continue to treat them as things. To take the rights and interests of other animals seriously and to reject involving oneself in their exploitation is very much a question of making right or wrong choices and of following through with right or wrong actions. Choosing to reject involving oneself in this exploitation will undoubtedly allow someone to "feel better", but to sum up going vegan as "simply a different way of living that makes me and countless others feel better" completely misses the point that going vegan isn't about ramping up one's own pleasure or assuaging one's guilt: Going vegan is about not perpetuating the exploitation and slaughter of non-human animals. It's not about me and you, Rachel -- it's about them.

And of course, as a writer for mainstream media who is testing the waters with strict vegetarianism for a few weeks, it makes sense that she would assert that for her, the experiment wasn't a political statement. Of course it wasn't. It was fodder for an article -- a temporary playing around with some variation on a trendy idea to sell copy. For me, as an abolitionist vegan, actually being vegan and educating others about going vegan are very much both personal and political statements. How could they not be?

Brougham wraps up her article with more comments about exactly how she's feeling better one month in, losing weight and sleeping better. She also makes it clear that whether or not she continues to not eat animals and their products (and to call it "veganism") is completely up in the air and that the outcome is really of no concern to her.

On Oct. 1, I’ll be at a dinner fork in the road. Maybe I’ll go back to my old ways; maybe I’ll eat meat and dairy on occasion; or maybe I’ll stay the vegan course.

Her disassociation with what's involved in continuing to consume animal products and her ambivalence about whether or not to consume them is made most clear, however, when she asserts

I’ll never judge my dinner companion for ordering the steak while I enjoy pasta with vegetables. After all, it’s just food.

As long as anyone continues to hold the belief that pieces of a sentient being are "just food", it's a given that they haven't wrapped their heads around speciesism and haven't weighed what's involved in bringing that piece of an animal to their plate. It's unsurprising, then, that Brougham could be so lackadaisical about whether or not to resume consuming animal products after her experiment. But her experience really just reflects the dozens of other so-called vegan cleanses and challenges so many celebrities, foodies and ordinary old newspaper writers have been droning on about over the past few years. More often than not, the question of animal rights gets tossed to the wayside and (as I mentioned at the beginning of this post) the focus is on health, environmentalism or weight loss. The issue of speciesism--that very state of mind which props up and facilitates the continued exploitation of non-human animals by the general public--is never addressed.

Sometimes mention is made of the treatment of animals, although more often than not when this is done, references are inserted to various purportedly ethical degrees of animal consumption. Readers are reassured that with "happy" eggs, they can have their non-vegan cake and eat it too, and that opting to do so is somehow a good and meaningful step for readers to take without having to engage in the oh so extremist and absolutist refusal to simply reject animal consumption altogether. This is generally why I have a hard time championing these half-hearted forays by non-vegans into murky territory they mislabel "veganism". This is why when fellow-vegans insist to me that getting "the word" out there at any cost is important and that mentions in mainstream media should be celebrated that I'm left wondering whether or not some of my fellow-vegans really realize what's really at stake when clear and consistent messages about the ethics of using animals as things fall short or when this supposed "word" is delivered by unclear and inconsistent messengers.

Let's be clear and consistent messengers about veganism and about what it really is we owe non-human animals. If we won't, who will?

A Kind of Blue

Love, Loss, Life

Someone I know told me recently that he has never wanted to share his home with non-human animals, specifically because of his fear of having to deal with their eventual loss by way of either illness or age. I'd been telling him about my own fears over recent weeks concerning my boy Zeus' latest bout with vertigo. The person with whom I was speaking had, in fact, happened to be visiting around a year and a half ago when Zeus' dizziness had first manifested itself in a major way, leaving him uncoordinated and distressed. We'd taken him to the vet's together to have him checked out and we were both worried about my little guy.

Healers as Harbingers

It was good to have someone else along for the first time in years -- good to have someone to help steady my nerves a little. The vet's office has always been an awkward place for me. Where once upon a time it was a place to which I'd bring various younger members of my feline family, whether to treat the odd minor issue or urinary tract infection; it was also a place to go to get a sense of reassurance. Over the years as various cats who've come into my care have aged, it's become a place I sometimes struggle not to dread visiting. I still remember clearly the early morning well over a dozen years ago I'd risen to get a glass of water and to check email, only to find Tarwater unable to move one of his hind legs. A few hours later, I received the worst diagnosis: saddle thrombus -- a blood clot which lodges itself in an artery in the leg. This was followed by the news that saddle thrombus is often associated with serious congestive heart disease and that in Tar's case, function of his leg might never be restored and that amputation might, in fact, end up required. Furthermore, I was told that because of the clot and the detection of a faint heart murmur that Tarwater would not likely be with us much longer -- that he would eventually succumb to stroke or heart failure.

Tar, as it turns out, lived another 10 years with nothing more than a slight limp which never prevented him from reaching the top of the fridge where he would curl up and keep an eye on me as I hovered over the stove. The damage was done, though. This was my first experience with getting "Really, Really Bad News" from my vet; for the first time, a visit to the veterinary clinic had left me more afraid than reassured.

As the rest of the gang aged and a few older fosters passed through, my visits to the veterinary clinic became more frequently punctuated by worry, nervousness and sometimes sorrow. Hyperthyroidism. Eosinophilic granuloma complex. Asthma. Chronic renal failure. Idiopathic vestibular disease. Some conditions (e.g. the asthma) have been manageable thanks to the amenable cooperation of the cats who know me as their favourite can opener. With other diagnoses, though, often comes the reminder -- sometimes even the confirmation -- that time shared together is coming to an end. The truth is, though, that every relationship we take on with someone reaches a conclusion of sorts, whether that someone is feline, canine or human.

Several years ago, walking home from a university class, I saw a woman calling out to what looked like a wobbly black kitten wandering along the edge of a busy street at the tail end of rush hour. I scooped up this little cat, realizing that as tiny and skinny as she was that she was no kitten. I brought her home and sneaked her into my office before my then-spouse could pause his favourite video game. She was filthy, infested with ear mites, had overgrown claws and what I suspected was ringworm. Her breath was horrid enough to nearly make me nauseous. As the ex and I later watched her devour the food I'd given her, we agreed that after getting her checked out by our vet and then making the appropriate calls to rule out that someone wasn't looking for her, we'd gained a new roommate. Her badly abscessed teeth would require hundreds of dollars to deal with and as we led up to the holidays, some friends and family members questioned that we would show willingness to spend money on this elderly little cat we'd named Maudie, whom we'd also come to discover during the blood-work required before her intensive dental work, had failing kidneys.

Wouldn't it make more sense to cut our losses and have "someone else's (abandoned) cat" euthanized, they asked, especially since we had no way to tell how much longer she'd live. The thing is, though, that "someone else's cat" was now our responsibility and that she had a right to her own life -- a life we'd chosen to share and to weave into our own lives. Maudie had her ups and downs and near the end, I'd be lying if I didn't admit that it was hard to be perpetually aware of the fact that her remaining days were few. It was almost an exact year from the day I'd found her that she decided to let go. Seven years later, I still remember what it felt like to wake up to her slight weight on my head, with her tiny thumb-sized paws kneading my scalp, and of how I'd sing verses of "Maudie Girl" to her.

As hard as it was to watch her fade in her final days and as much as she was and is now missed, I cannot imagine not having helped this little cat -- not having gotten to know this unique little individual who'd nestled herself so sweetly and firmly into our hearts and memories. I cannot imagine having allowed the fear of losing her to have prevented me from ever having had the opportunity to know her. Worse, I refuse to imagine what might have happened to her had I not scooped her up from the traffic that day so many years ago.

Why Let Them In?

When we invite non-humans into our homes, we do so for many reasons. I'd like to ask you to consider what's perhaps the most important reason: In the US alone, 3-4 million cats and dogs are killed every single year in shelters. Consider that 5 out of 10 dogs and 7 out of ten cats killed in shelters every year die simply because they are not adopted; meanwhile, up to 30% of cats and dogs brought into new homes each year in the US come from breeders and pet stores. (You can see some of these statistics here or find similar information elsewhere on the internet.) The bottom line is that adopting a non-human animal from a shelter will quite literally save a life, whether the life of the animal in question, or that of another animal waiting to be taken home. This, in and of itself, is the reason that it's crucial that anyone who has the room in their hearts and homes for a non-human should look no further than their local shelter.

So you want a purebred? Around 25% of dogs relinquished to US shelters are, in fact, purebred. You say you want a kitten/puppy? Talk to any shelter employee or volunteer about what's commonly known as kitten/puppy season in shelters because of the overwhelming numbers of unspayed cats and dogs often relinquished or found with their litters. And if you don't have time to deal with kitten and puppy hijinks, I assure you that the number of adult dogs and cats you'll find -- many of them who are just ordinary loving animals whose only reason for being in a shelter is that they are simply no longer wanted -- is absolutely staggering. No room for a cat or a dog? Adopt one of the many others who also get relinquished to shelters: rabbits, rats, mice, hamsters, birds, et al.

Fear of Loss or Fear of Gain?

I've been spending a lot of time thinking about loss these past few days. On top of other goings on, dealing with recent vet visits, tests and uncertainty during these past weeks for my pal Zeus' on and off again (and consistently misdiagnosed) condition of the past year and a half has left me working hard to not dwell on heartache. Having loved and lost often over the past few years, I've learned that it's far from anything you get used to and that one loss invariably seems to compound or amplify the fear of another. It also smarts when I see friends and acquaintances trying to wrap their own heads around the potential (or actual) loss of loved ones of their own, whether human or non-human. It smarts even more to watch them deal with the aftermath since it's all too familiar. Although they may become fewer as time passes, there are always reminders.

Every single one of us reaches a point in our lives where we're left to deal with some sort of tear in the fabric of what constitutes our immediate existence. So many different factors influence each individual's own experience with it, that how we're each left dealing with it varies greatly, with the common thread being that awareness in that very moment that the loved one is just no longer "here" in whatever capacity the loved one was "here" in our everyday-ness. We try to find meaning in what's left and, with time, to pick up those threads and to patch the tears however we can. This is all that we can really do.

The sense of loss, however, isn't limited to coping with the final amscraying into nothingness brought by the death of another. Although people walk in and out of our lives constantly as we also walk into and out of theirs, we find ourselves focusing on the few who bring us some level of happiness and and we end up weaving our interactions with them into our mental meanderings about the future. Some become close friends, while others we choose as romantic cohorts to accompany us on this crazy trip called life. Those individuals get factored in. All of the goodness they bring to our existence and the accompanying opportunities for reciprocity get factored into the "stories of us" we unwittingly build for ourselves; our dreams and anticipations spill over and wrap themselves around frameworks we've tentatively assembled, our makeshift ever-afters.

The truth is that as much as we cannot control that a loved one dies, we cannot -- ultimately -- control when someone will consciously choose to otherwise remove themselves from our lives. That's also part of this thing called "living". What we can control, however, is whether we take a chance and open up and risk being loved and risk loving back. What we can control is our willingness to take that opportunity to come together with somebody and to share time together. We ultimately control who we let in and we completely control what we are willing and able to give to that other. It's all we can do and sometimes, for another, it's everything.

On Loving Non-humans

I've had more than a handful of animal rights activists say to me over the years that there's something inherently wrong in admitting that we derive pleasure from our relationships with the non-humans we adopt or rescue. I've had animal rights activists say to me that there's something inherently selfish about saying "I couldn't imagine not living with a cat", as if to say it somehow implies that we're objectifying cats. I think that really misses the point concerning speciesism and concerning society's general view and use of non-human animals. The truth is that for many of us who share our lives with dogs, cats, rabbits and other non-human persons, those relationships are indeed profoundly meaningful and there is indeed reciprocation. I can't help but think that anyone claiming to me that non-human animals are unable to develop emotional bonds with humans has simply never spent more than a few hours with a non-human animal. And yes, letting a non-human in and allowing oneself to love him or her leaves oneself open to the pain of the eventual loss of that individual, but isn't that ultimately what life and loving are all about?

Please give a non-human animal in a shelter a chance at living out his or her life in comfort and happiness. By giving someone this opportunity, you'll not only save a life, but you will indeed gain a friend. It breaks my heart to know that millions of non-humans in North America alone are dying every year merely for want of having someone let them in. It breaks my heart even more to think that these millions are dying and that they won't, in fact, be missed. They'll just be statistics when they could be a Maudie or a Tarwater -- or a Zeus.

Truth and Ridicule

It is the fate of every truth to be an object of ridicule when it is first acclaimed. It was once considered foolish to suppose that black men were really human beings and ought to be treated as such. What was once foolish has now become a recognized truth. Today it is considered as exaggeration to proclaim constant respect for every form of life as being the serious demand of a rational ethic. But the time is coming when people will be amazed that the human race existed so long before it recognized that thoughtless injury to life is incompatible with real ethics. Ethics is in its unqualified form extended responsibility to everything that has life.

-- Albert Schweitzer

Thanks for the Reminder, Wayne!

In case you weren't 100% sure that the Humane Society of the United States (HSUS) offers nothing but a disinterested shrug to the question of whether or not non-human animals are ours to use, its President and CEO has issued yet another reminder:

I have been a vegan for 26 years, but the Humane Society is broad-minded when it comes to food. About 95 percent of our members are not vegetarian.

But I believe eating is a moral act, and we can make choices to minimize the suffering of (food) animals. We can buy cage-free eggs, buy pork that doesn't come from factory farms, and avoid eating veal and foie gras.

[... W]e don't say you must be vegan and we must stop all hunting. We're working to curb the worst abuses and we're very involved in the political realm.

If Wayne Pacelle earnestly views the question of consuming animals as a moral act -- one in which he does not directly partake himself, how on earth is it that he could condone that 95% of its members are not vegetarian and refer to this sad reality as "broad-minded"?

If "eating is a moral act", instead of paying lip-service to the rights of non-human animals to not be used as things existing solely for human pleasure, why not take the opportunity to suggest not using them in the first place? Is doing so really so unthinkable to someone who chooses to refrain from using them himself? Why, instead, does he promote their continued use? Why does he opt to champion certain types of use as being somehow more moral than others? And why insist on doing it over and over again?

The truth is that HSUS is in the business of regulating animal treatment and without the continued consumption of animals and their products -- i.e. their continued use, Wayne Pacelle would find himself without his annual $250,000 (or so) salary. Why on earth promote veganism, then, when one's living is made off the blood of others? (An argument could also be made questioning whether someone who profits so clearly by facilitating the perpetuation of others' use of animals should, in good faith, consider himself vegan, but that's something I'll leave to better philosophers and debaters to weigh.)

Non-human animals deserve more than to have so-called animal advocates lulling people into continuing to provide the demand which leads to their being bred into lives of misery ending in slaughter. Maybe Wayne Pacelle doesn't think so, but I do. Don't you?

Go vegan. Talk to others about going vegan. If they're not ready to listen, talk to others who are. If you don't, who will? Certainly not Wayne Pacelle.

What This Vegan Eats

I've been keeping meals really quick and simple these days and haven't been making enough use of the camera. That being said, here are a few "boring", "bland" and positively "unhealthy" dishes I've made over the past little while to keep me protein deficient, anemic, and basically fighting for my very life:

Vegetable-lentil soup with mushrooms. Seasoned with dill and Indian chili powder.

Homemade whole wheat crust topped with liberal drizzles of sriracha sauce, fennel seed, roasted slices of sweet potato, onion, red bell pepper, chopped portobello mushrooms, pickled hot banana peppers, fresh pineapple, slices of tomato, crushed garlic, a sprinkle of chipotle powder and a pinch of dried parsley.

Udon noodles stir-fried with portobello mushrooms, red bell peppers, onions, crushed garlic, organic tamari, sesame oil and a bit of fresh cilantro.

Gardein strips with homemade BBQ dipping sauce. A salad of raw carrots, red bell peppers, shredded broccoli & cabbage, cooked peas and a sweet onion/lime dressing.

Grated raw beet & carrot salad with a drizzle of lime dressing. Baked whole wheat wrap stuffed with roasted green bell peppers, black beans, cilantro, cheddar Daiya, crushed garlic, dried chipotle and a bit of salsa. Rice topped with extra spicy salsa.

And because there can never be enough pizza in my life:

Stage 1: Take a whole wheat pita and spread it with roasted garlic tomato sauce seasoned with fennel seed, basil, crushed garlic and spices. Top with cooked breaded Gardein chunks and sautéed mushrooms.

Stage2: Add pickled hot banana and chopped fresh red & green bell peppers.

Stage 3: Top with mozzarella Daiya shreds and bake in preheated oven until Daiya has melted, then devour.

Reinforcing Misconceptions: When Non-Vegans Weigh in on Being Vegan

I often stumble across articles in the media which are about vegans although written by non-vegans, and which don't appear at first glance to be fodder for any sort of lengthy or detailed post. Often, though, one of these articles will still contain something -- an assumption, a bit of misinformation, a certain tone -- that leaves me thinking about it long after I've moved on to read something else. I then return to it after some time spent mulling over whatever got under my skin and every once in a while, I'll try to tease it out into something I hope can lead to further discussion. This morning, it was an article by Coloradoan lifestyle columnist and chef Linda Hoffman called "Setting the table for all nutritional needs can be tricky task". Hoffman wrote the article after a neighbour approached her for vegan recipes, expecting the arrival of a couple of friends -- including one vegan -- who would be visiting for a week.

My first response to such a question would have been to suggest to her neighbour that she ask the friends in question for recipe ideas or information on their food preferences. When I visit others, I always offer to bring my own food and will often offer to fend for myself separately if my stay is prolonged. I'll even offer to cook a few meals for my hosts, mostly because I love to cook and enjoy any opportunity to share good food with others. One of my basic goals when visiting others is the same as any good guest's: To take all steps necessary to not become a pain in the ass so that the visit can be pleasurable for all. For a vegan, this often means doing a little bit extra to lighten the load and to fill in the blanks for my host so that there's no uncertainty or awkwardness during my stay. At least I try. I think it's because of this that I was disappointed that Hoffman didn't suggest to her neighbour that (s)he actually check with the forthcoming visitors to discuss meal arrangements.

Hoffman starts off on a considerate note that's actually a good general rule of thumb to follow when playing host to anyone, whether vegan or non-vegan. She states that when it comes to preparing food for a guest that

[i]t's one thing to provide food a friend can eat within the guidelines she's chosen and something else to serve food that can actually meet physical needs and makes the person feel cared for.

This is the sort of mindset that any host should hold when entertaining any guests, regardless of dietary restrictions or preferences. Unfortunately, she couches it in an initial presentation of hosting vegans as being "tricky" or "challenging". This needn't be the case at all, particularly if communication between guest and host is initiated and maintained on both ends. Hoffman makes it It's clear from the beginning, however, that she won't be facilitating this sort of communication.

Hoffman presents meal preparation during the visit as involving a need to balance options for the vegan guest as well as cater to the assumed needs of non-vegans who'll be at the table, and therein lies what I think is one of the main problems with asking a non-vegan for advice on how to deal with vegans at mealtime. In Hoffman's own words:

There is no need to impose a limited vegan diet on the rest of the group but it is important to serve a variety of foods that allows everyone to feel satisfied.

She views vegan food choices as "limited" and the attitude she conveys is that feeding vegan food to non-vegans is unthinkable -- that it would somehow leave them feeling unsatisfied. Of course, if you're reading this blog post, there's a really good chance that you're a vegan and that you've fed at least a few non-vegans at some point in your life and that you know from experience that this is bunk.

I think that given that she's an actual chef, Hoffman's suggestions for a week's stay of vegan meals are, in fact, embarrassingly "limited". She actually spends an entire third of the article discussing different variations on a bean and rice salad that can be served up as separate meals, insisting that "[b]eans and rice combine to provide complete protein". The thing is that there's no need to combine plant-based foods to obtain "complete protein"; this protein myth was discredited a very long time ago. Furthermore, it's just really disappointing that a chef -- a real honest to goodness chef -- would end up devoting an entire third of her article on what to feed vegans to suggesting variations of bean and rice salad. There are so many other equally simple ideas which could have been offered by anyone with far less expertise.

The other food options she brings up are "soy products" and grilled vegetables. At least she recommends serving the soy products with greens on the side, and she suggests allowing "the guest to choose" which ones to buy (remember -- communication between guest and host is key)... but she then suggests that the soy products can be "stir-fried or grilled next to steak or chicken breasts". I think that I speak for many ethical vegans when I say that I'd rather have a fourth or fifth (or sixth) meal of never-ending-variations-on-bean-and-rice-salad than eat meat substitutes fried up with animal flesh. What's sad, too, is that the idea that tempeh could possibly be served to non-vegans seems to escape her completely. She presents the same either/or scenario when discussing making open-faced sandwiches with soy cheese for the vegan but "real cheese for the others", as if somehow soy cheese is untouchable to anyone but a vegan.

The thing is that there are many dishes that non-vegans commonly eat which don't ordinarily (or always) contain animal products. These dishes can be shared by vegans and non-vegans alike at a meal without perpetuating this mistaken idea that every single meal enjoyed by non-vegans either does or should contain animal products (which then need to be substituted with soy replacements for vegans). How about pasta with marinara sauce alongside a garden salad and a grilled baguette brushed with olive oil, garlic and herbs? What about three-bean chili served with corn chips and guacamole? Or what about a gorgeous Middle Eastern mezze with raw vegetables and pita bread served with hummus and baba ganoush, rice-stuffed grape leaves (or other roasted vegetables like bell peppers, falafel, kalamata olives, marinated artichoke hearts and/or fava beans and tabbouleh? How about any number or variety of Asian stir fry served with rice or noodles or a scrumptious Thai curry made with coconut milk? These are all dishes my non-vegan friends have made at some point -- and not just when I was sharing the meal with them.

My point is that each meal need not be viewed as requiring the preparation of two separate meals, or of requiring any sort of special additional knowledge about vegan food that a non-vegan host might not readily have. Furthermore, each meal need not require the switching in or out of substitutes to cater to this idea that every single meal eaten by a non-vegan necessarily contains meat, dairy or eggs. Even when a vegan isn't sharing a non-vegan's table, vegan-friendly fare may be had from time to time. Add to this that any vegan guest would be happy to share his or her own meal ideas and to even cook something for his or her hosts that might be a little out of the ordinary, and I think that it would be difficult to agree with Hoffman's assertion that a host should view vegan food is "limited". I think it would be difficult to concur that that non-vegans would somehow be unable to leave the table satisfied or that they would feel "imposed" upon if fed any number of the things I listed above.

Still, as I wrote back in August, there are some non-vegans who do feel that they somehow need to consume a piece of flesh or a a mound of cheese to call something a meal. Hoffman would clearly fall into this camp. At least, her article would lead one to think so, which is why it's a shame that when mainstream media offers up bits of advice on vegans and non-vegans sharing a table that the point-of-view is always a non-vegan's. It invariably presents what a vegan would eat within the confined context of what the non-vegan writer imagines a vegan would eat; the general public ends up reading this and issuing a collective groan at the thought of ever facing the daunting task of hosting a vegan. Worse is that instead of providing them with useful advice, it reinforces any conclusions they may have been drawn from limited knowledge and experience and previous misinformation picked up through similar articles.

Wouldn't it have been a treat to read a piece which would have described how varied and delicious vegan food actually is? Wouldn't an article presenting the preparation of vegan meals as an opportunity to think outside the box -- to try something new without relying on animal products -- have left a more positive impression of veganism for Hoffman's readers? We need to get the word out any way we can that non-human animals aren't ours to use. In doing so, we need to knock down the barriers non-vegans set up for themselves when the message they're constantly and consistently delivered by other non-vegans in mainstream media is that going vegan is difficult, or that it's restrictive and tantamount to self-flagellation. We need to deliver a louder message that it's not, and that going vegan is, in fact, a joy.

Oh, Those Celebrities!

Just last month, The Biggest Loser's weight loss trainer Bob Harper lost an opportunity to promote not using animals. Harper went public in June of 2010 to self-identify as vegan and in doing so, has joined a handful of other celebrities who've spent the past few years sending one confusing message after another out to the public about what veganism actually is.

Last November, Harper was interviewed by Fitness magazine to talk to them "about his vegan lifestyle" and when asked for "healthy eating tips" he'd give to "readers who may or may not be interested in veganism ", Harper included trendy Greek yogurt with his vegan options. I don't know about the rest of you, but if given an opportunity as a vegan to educate the public about what to eat, my go-to place certainly wouldn't be to promote animal products. If I were a vegan who was also deemed an authority on personal health and fitness, I'd certainly jump at every opportunity to talk to others about not eating animals or their products.

But what do I know? Even celebrity-beloved Farm Sanctuary seems a bit confused about whether or not humans -- even those who engage in animal advocacy -- should be using animals or promoting animal use. Some of their supporters questioned them on their Facebook page this past October 1 about whether Harper was a suitable spokesperson for their Farm Sanctuary Walk for Animals Campaign. At the time, Harper was also plugging Jennie-O Turkey, a company which sells turkey meat and is a major sponsor of Harper's Biggest Loser TV show. Farm Sanctuary's response to this reasonable question?

When working with celebrities, we understand that they are under immense pressure to maintain their public platform, and at times, and for a variety of reasons, their personal values may not always be reflected within their public persona. When we focus our energies on who is the purest amongst us, we do a disservice to animals.

So actually going vegan or(gasp!) expecting other self-described vegans to not promote animal use, according to Farm Sanctuary, does a "disservice to animals"? I guess, then, that they've found their ideal spokesperson -- although they at least didn't go so far as to select him as the celebrity face for the Adopt-a-Turkey Project they were in the middle of promoting. (I'm guessing that the suits at Jennie-O would have disapproved at such a blatant contradiction?)

Harper's spent a lot of time since outing himself as a vegan talking about the personal health benefits of veganism. During a Star interview this past May, which ended up discussed by many animal advocates online, Harper focused on veganism being about "feeling good" oneself. However, he also stressed that it's not altogether necessary to go vegan to attain this feeling of well-being:

I tell people all the time that you don't have to be a vegetarian or vegan to feel good, but I want people to rely more on plant-based foods. [...] For animal-eaters it's important that you get grass-fed meats and all organic produce. If you make sure you are eating in that way, you may pay more now-but you will save a lot on medical costs later.

Furthermore, although he did call himself a vegan in the interview, when asked whether he "miss[es] meat", Harper responded with an emphatic "definitely" and proceeded to elaborate that he's a vegan who indulges his cravings for animal products because he doesn't feel that he should impose rules upon his consumption:

Look, nobody is perfect and I definitely have cheated but I don't beat myself up for it. I don't want life to be so regimented. If I want some cheese or something I definitely let myself.

In fact, when prodded further and asked if he allows himself "a cheat a day", Harper responded:

I don't necessarily have a cheat day, but I do allow myself to indulge once in a while without beating myself up. The other day I broke down and had some pizza-and it was so good!

Not to "beat" Bob Harper up, or anything -- since he seems quite concerned with not getting himself down over his self-identifying as vegan while continuing to indulge in consuming animals or their products because they're "so good!" -- but surely he's an intelligent enough fellow to understand basic definitions? Surely?

Not only does Harper call himself vegan while admitting to eating animal products in interviews, but (according to the non-vegan site This Dish is Veg) as recently as yesterday, he tweeted that he gave in to a craving for egg whites. To promote veganism? To promote Farm Sanctuary? It seems that the only thing Harper ended up promoting is his self-indulgent use of non-human animals. When asked by another tweeter if it was the first time since going vegan he'd consumed animal products, Harper (in flat-out contradiction to to the responses he gave in the interviews to which I've linked above) replied with an emphatic "YES!!!!!". When another tweeter asked him if he thinks that egg whites are vegan, Harper gave some indication that he does, in fact, understand the definition of "vegan" when he responded "NO".

Today, Harper seemed surprised that some of the people who may have nonetheless thought he was the real deal have responded to his gushing over egg whites. His stating that he'd gotten "really HORRIBLE messages" was a little over dramatic, though; with the exception of one nasty pro-violence tweeter, most of what he received by that point were earnest questions from other animal advocates asking "why" he'd eaten eggs. Still, he chose to limit his response to that one nasty tweeter earlier. Judging by the hundreds of supportive responses he's gotten so far from non-vegans (and former "vegans") asserting that there's nothing wrong with consuming eggs, that what he eats is his personal choice, that there's such a thing as "happy eggs", I'd say that so-called "vegan" Harper's done a solid job delivering a clear message to the public that there's nothing wrong with consuming animal products. And no thanks to that one nasty tweeter, Harper's also helped facilitate the public perception of vegans as being hateful and deranged, as well as to hold himself up as a bit of a martyr.

Was he ever vegan? Probably not. But what concerns me isn't whether he was or wasn't; what actually concerns me is the fall-out from yet another celebrity's having presented himself as such and caused more damage than good. Sadly, it looks like the biggest losers today will be the non-human animals.

DIY: On Cleaning a Tooth or Two

I panicked a little at the grocery store over the weekend when my usual brand of toothpaste, Dr. Ken's, was missing from its usual spot on the shelves. I'd loaded up on it a while back during a sale and have no idea of when they ran out or of whether they've stopped stocking it. Not too long ago, the grocery store in question had gone several months without carrying the organic variety of Vegenaise I love and then recently resumed carrying it without explanation -- asking the staff about it had proved useless. Basically, there's no telling when or why a favourite item will vanish, so I try to stock up on non-perishable favourites when I can -- particularly when they go on sale. Dr. Ken's toothpaste became my "usual" brand because on top of being vegan, its taste isn't overwhelming and it's generally one of the more inexpensive of the brands carried by local stores. So with a little less than a half-tube of it left to go and refusing to shell out additional money to taste-test a different brand, I found myself with enough time to turn to Google to locate information to try to make my own.

Aside from containing animal ingredients and of having possibly been tested on nonhuman animals, commercial toothpaste often contains artificial sweeteners and flavours, as well as chemical preservatives. Much has also been written over the past couple of decades about the hazards of fluoride, whether added to toothpaste or to drinking water (please note that I haven't read enough about this issue to weigh in one way or another, myself). Considering that brushing your teeth is something you (ideally) do at least a couple of times a day, aren't you concerned about what it is that you're putting on your toothbrush and into your mouth?

A while back, I'd spent the better part of a year as an impoverished college student brushing my teeth with plain old baking soda. I would just sprinkle some baking soda on a small plate, wet my toothbrush, dip it in and then brush. Mildly abrasive, baking soda helps scrub plaque and stains off your teeth, leaving you with whiter looking teeth and fresher breath. It also raises the pH level in your mouth, which in turn combats the enamel-destroying acid created by the bacteria in your mouth. Concerns have been raised over baking soda being too abrasive to use regularly without wearing down tooth enamel, although this mostly becomes a problem if you brush too hard to begin with or use too firm a toothbrush. That being said, my dentist once told me that far too much gum damage is actually caused quite specifically by people brushing their teeth too hard -- something to keep in mind whether or not you use baking soda.

There are recipes for homemade toothpaste or tooth cleaner all over the internet. Seriously. They're common on a variety of blogs and websites because they appeal to the environmentally responsible (think of the packaging saved by making your own), to the thrifty and to the health-conscious. As it turns out, making your own toothpaste is so simple that it would also make sense that it catch the attention of penny-pinching, environmentally conscious, superfluous chemical avoiding vegans. The most common one you'll find is a variation on a combination of the aforementioned baking soda (with or without hydrogen peroxide), vegetable glycerin (for smoothness) and some sort of essential oil or extract such as peppermint or cinnamon for an all-natural fresh taste. Here's one example on the Instructables site. Here's another on the Vegan Epicurean blog. As an alternative to glycerin, some recipes use coconut oil. Find a recipe, try it yourself, then tweak it.

Let's face it: Sometimes vegan personal care products can be a bit pricey. This is one example, however, of how easy it is to make a cheap alternative of your own. A few years ago, I'd weighed the idea of integrating more do-it-yourself, vegan-friendly, frugal and sustainability-focused posts into the blog. Maybe this is a good time to revisit that idea. Please feel free to comment below if you have suggestions for future posts. Are there any items for which you'd like to find DIY alternatives to tackle at home?

Related post: DIY: Animal-Free Shampoo