Pig tail tale

[Guest guest]

Hi All,

To see another reason why we might consider not eating land animals,

see the below from the New York Times.

NYTimes.com > Opinion

OP-ED CONTRIBUTOR

The Unkindest Cut

By NICOLETTE HAHN NIMAN

Bolinas, Calif. — A few months ago, I toured a Wisconsin dairy and

witnessed something unsettling. It was a typical modern dairy, with

cows living indoors in a metal building with concrete floors, rather

than in the bucolic setting many of us imagine. As I walked through

the place with the farmer's wife, I noticed that the cows' tails had

been cut off and I asked her why. " Well, it's just easier to milk

them without their tails, " she explained, adding, " My husband didn't

like the idea, so I did it while he was away fishing for the

weekend. " I felt a warm rush of affection for her husband.

A cow without a tail, you see, is a sad sight. If you live in New

York City, as I used to, you probably haven't been around a cow

lately and therefore might not be able to picture just how odd a cow

looks without her tail. So, try to imagine a golden retriever, a

tiger cat, or a horse with its tail lopped off. Sad, right? At our

cattle ranch, where the cows have their tails intact - the older

cows' tails just reaching the blades of grass - I have even found

myself admiring the beauty and grace of the cow's tail as she swishes

it around.

And I have often observed just how useful tails are to cattle. At

certain times of year, cows' tails are in constant motion, flicking

away flies and other insects that gather on their backs. Other than

predators, which most farm animals don't have to worry about very

much, flies are the bane of a cow's existence. And confinement

dairies, which often have dense fly populations, are places where

cows are especially in need of their tails.

But lest you think of the dairy farmer's wife as some misguided

villain, it's important to point out that she's just following the

trends of her trade. The Wisconsin dairy farm I visited is in fact

becoming the norm. Although the Department of Agriculture does not

keep official records on the practice, animal protection advocates

say that cutting off most or all of animals' tails - known as " tail

docking " - is now commonplace in the livestock and dairy industries.

The reasons given in the dairy business are convenience in milking

and disease prevention. But there is little proof that tail docking,

which is generally done without anesthetic, reduces disease - and

there's plenty of evidence that it makes a cow's life unpleasant. In

a 2001 article published in the Journal of Dairy Science, University

of Wisconsin researchers noted that when it comes to tail

docking, " no positive benefits to the cow have been identified. "

Tail docking is also commonplace in the hog industry. Having visited

numerous industrial-style hog operations, I've seen nothing but

truncated tails on pigs and piglets. (The tails are generally clipped

off with wire cutters - and without anesthetic.)

Like a dairy cow, a pig uses its tail not only to shoo away insects

but also to communicate. Like dogs, pigs wag their tails when they

are happy, twitch them when they are nervous, let them drop straight

down when they are sick. They may stick them straight out behind them

when they are frightened or alarmed.

The pork industry's rationale for tail docking is that pigs bite each

other's tails and that the tails can then become infected. When pigs'

tails are cut off, the stubs stay intensely sore and so, the theory

goes, the bite will cause so much pain that the bitee will move away

from the biter. (The industry refers to this as " avoidance

behavior. " )

Now, part of this is true: tail biting is common in pig herds in

confinement buildings. But isn't the tail biting a direct result of

how they're being reared - in metal buildings with concrete floors,

giving pigs nothing to occupy their active minds? In nature, pigs

spend most of their days rooting around in the dirt, exploring and

grazing. Stuck inside, bored pigs often bite one anothers' tails -

one of the many " vices " or abnormal behaviors that occur when pigs

are raised in confinement.

However, the real question is not why tail biting occurs in modern

hog buildings but whether cutting off the tails of pigs raised in

confinement reduces it. So far, the research is not encouraging.

Several European studies show that cutting off pigs' tails has little

or none of the desired effect. A 2003 British study, for example,

found that " tail docking was associated with a three-fold increase in

the risk of tail biting. " The Animal Welfare Institute, which

promotes humane animal farming, prohibits tail docking in its pig

farming protocols. The standards state, " A behaviorally appropriate

environment and good nutrition normally eliminate the need for

routine tail-docking. " (Full disclosure: My husband founded a network

of family farms that insists on these methods.)

Given the suffering it causes animals and its dubious benefits, tail

docking should be stopped. Britain, Norway, the Netherlands, Sweden

and Switzerland all prohibit tail docking of dairy cows, and the

European Union adopted a directive in 1991 barring routine docking of

pigs' tails. While the Department of Agriculture has undertaken a

study of pig tail docking that is expected to be released in

September, the department should begin to find ways to discourage

livestock and dairy farmers from their across-the-board embrace of

the practice. Eventually, though, our consciences and common sense -

as well as science - should tell us that we need an outright ban.

Until that day, the only way to see real pigs' tails will be to find

a farmer using traditional farming methods. Luckily, I know quite a

few. Walking through the pastures that belong to Willis, an Iowa

hog farmer, it's a relief to see tails waving in the air - to see

pigs chasing one another, rolling in the grass, digging in the earth.

Mr. Willis feels that he does not need to dock his animals' tails.

His pigs have plenty to occupy themselves. And, he adds, " I like

seeing pigs with their tails. "

tte Hahn Niman is a lawyer and rancher.

Cheers, Al Pater.