How do you know when there’s a vegan at your party? They’ll tell you.
I like to hunt and fish. My wife likes to hunt and fish. That’s among the primary reasons we live in Alaska. While I mostly hunt for healthy, additive-free meat in addition to the joy in being outdoors, I do have the odd memento around; a few sets of antlers on the wall, a neatly preserved skull of a javelina I took down on the Mexican border with its nasty teeth displayed, and so forth. We eat what we kill, along with the odd bit of beef, pork, or chicken from the store – and my wife and I both enjoy an adult beverage from time to time.
That’s our choice, that’s our lifestyle, and in our own home, nobody better try to tell us otherwise.
So when I ran across a story about a man who goes by the screen name “spaceneededAITA,” whose houseguest – his stepson’s girlfriend – objected to his eating meat and having the…
