By Gene Hall

Time to eat the dog? Now there’s an eye catching headline. Pet lovers across America have bristled at the thought. Just between us, I rebel at using the politically correct “companion animals.” Ginger is a pet, the third and probably last of my long-lived dachshunds.

Yes, I own her. I am not a pet parent, a caretaker or a companion. I am her owner and for 13 years I have accepted the responsibility of that. She likes it that way. She gets fed on time every day, gets the proper veterinary care and gets her belly scratched whenever she wants. With hand or foot, this is her most favorite thing in the world. 

Brenda and Robert Vale, two New Zealand architects, recently published an environmental diatribe called “Time to Eat the Dog? The Real Guide to Sustainable Living.” Since media coverage promoted this misguided tome, the Web has become a platform for people “barking” at them and their ideas, according to Energy and Environment Daily. In the book, the New Zealanders have calculated that a medium-sized dog has twice the ecological footprint of an SUV. The book then suggests ways to cut down on the impact.

“The reason we called the book ‘Time to Eat the Dog?’ with a question mark is, we were not actually suggesting that you should actually eat your dog,” Robert Vale said in an interview. “And we didn't provide any recipes in the book.” The Vales claim that household pets have a large environmental footprint because their diets consist largely of meat. Dogs eat meat? No kidding?

This is another good example of a political genre I have come to call “trivial pursuit.” It’s a ferocious attack on modern life, modern agriculture and modern science, tearing at the fabric or our lives in search of tiny incremental gains in environmental improvement. Like all other aspects of environmental activism, the fact that our environment has improved and is still improving is really beside the point. Activists can generate no passion and few dollars by stating the truth that, “We are making substantial gains in environmental safety.” There always has to be a crisis somewhere.

Too bad. There are such big problems that deserve this passion. Billions stand to starve in the coming decades. We have the technology to prevent it, but this mindless game of trivial pursuit stands in the way. Instead, we are about to pass climate change legislation that will lower the American standard of living and help bring about famine. All for gains that are not only trivial, but non-existent. Instead, architects are writing books to convince people to give up their pets. They should stick to building things.

My financial investment in Ginger has reached a level I’d prefer not to think about.   She’s had some health problems. She lived with a brain tumor for two years and is now blind in one eye. She’s not as spry as she used to be.

However, I think she knows more about what we humans say than should be possible.  When she has a bad day, I wonder out loud if it’s time to take that last trip to the vet.  Before you know it, she’s bouncing around like a puppy. So, don’t let it slip that someone has suggested we eat her. She’s fat enough to dress out nicely, but she’s earned the right to her ecological footprint. I think I’ll keep buying her favorite can of meat without worrying too much about its impact on the planet. I think Mother Earth can stand it. It will be a sad day when I no longer have to.

The extremists and activists had better pay attention. As long as they’re advocating shutting down family farm operations with glib allegations of “factory farming,” the public won’t be too alarmed. They might even go along. When you suggest they give up their pets—well, at that point they’ve “stopped preaching and gone to meddling.”