Later that day Benson stood on the sidewalk flanked by two suitcases and a canvas bag containing all his vegan food and herbal teas. I walked outside and asked him where his car was.
“I let Robert have it.”
“You gave him your car?”
“He needs it more than I do. The volunteers use it to transport the animals.”
“So he’s picking you up now?”
Benson nodded and said he was going to move into one of Robert’s dog foster homes. It was a better fit than living with Lara and me, a couple of carnivores.
“God, Benson, did you have to piss off Lara like that?”
“I’m sorry. I was just expressing my beliefs. They offend some people. But I thought you and Lara would be more understanding than most.”
“I think I understand all too well.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Your extreme position is not as moral as you’d like to believe. I think it’s the semi-vegetarian, the person who eats dairy, fish, and occasional meats, who is morally superior to the strict vegan for several reasons. One, he can convert more people to eat less meat than abandon it altogether. The result is that less animals would be slaughtered. Your way is so extreme that potential converts are turned off. For me, pragmatism takes priority over some unattainable ideal. When people compromise, less suffering occurs. But people who push their extreme ideals, pedal to the metal, as some might say, alienate the majority of the population. I hate to say this to you, Benson, but if the world were full of more people willing to compromise, and not absolutists like yourself, the world would be a better place.”
Benson furrowed his brow at me and said, “You’re just justifying your compromised diet and your compromised morality. You conveniently ignore Kant’s Moral Imperative, which we should act only on a principle that we would wish everyone to follow in a similar fashion. If the roles were reversed, with animals having power over you and they had a choice of being vegans or meat eaters, you would rather they choose to be vegans rather than sink their teeth into your flesh. But with you in power, you conveniently won’t afford this earth’s creatures with the dignity you demand for yourself. Pathetic.”
Robert pulled up in Benson’s white old-model Volvo wagon. He certainly must have known that Benson was leaving my house under hostile circumstances, but that didn’t stop him from waving and smiling at us in an upbeat manner that annoyed me.
When I turned around and headed back for the house, Benson wished Lara and me good luck with our getting pregnant. I couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or sarcastic.
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