Do Animals Have Souls? (part 2)

'So Uncle Tuppy.  Five years ago you set off in the coracle to free a boatload of lactating ewes held captive on a prison ship (please see my five e-book tales on Amazon, if you want to know more). Now, you're wolfing down your third bacon sandwich of the day, and wiping grease off your chin. Isn't there some kind of APPALLING CONTRADICTION there?  In short, aren't you a hypocrite?'
'Well, I - '
'Let me complete my train of thought before you start with the weasel-worded reply. You're not only a hypocrite - you're a PSYCHOPATH,' Tuppence continued, folding his arms. 'You're devoid of compassion and moral integrity.  You've a black hole instead of a conscience.'
'That's a nice thing to say to someone who bought you Thomas the Tank Engine pyjamas for your birthday.  And a Smartie pencil case.'
'You're not even attempting to defend yourself.  You're resorting to feeble sarcasm and personal attacks.'
'Isn't that always the best way?'
'It's lazy.  Where are your facts?  Your counter-arguments?'
'I have none.  I admit everything.  I saved the ewes because I could.  I eat bacon because I can.  They sell it shrink-wrapped for one ninety-nine a packet off the back of the grocer's van.  It would be rude to say no.  I'm human, therefore I'm fallible - what can I say?'
'You've said plenty.  And you aren't human - as well you know.  You're a sheep.  You're supposed to be a herbivore, yet you eat dead pigs. What's wrong with you?'
'I don't know.  I'm weak. I know that what I'm doing is wrong. I don't think of bacon and sausages as being real.  They're like biscuits or crisps...'
'Oh shut up. I wanted a proper argument with dialectics and everything. But all you can do is waffle about crisps.  No wonder I'm delinquent.'

Does anyone need to milk a sheep?

I'm only asking.
If you do, may I point you in the direction of some plans I drew up last year, for my "SMD" or "sheep milking device"?
Simply click here and here for super-detailed diagrams of the CTR or Central Tubery Regulator, and the meths stove used to power the whole device.

Bacon sandwich, anyone?

It was a wet and windy night and me, Geoffrey and the T-G were all sitting round a roaring driftwood fire back at the Outcrop.
"Wonder where B.O. is now?" I mused, packing some Black Bogey into the Meerschaum.
"I'm sure he won't be too far away. Here - have my Swan Vestas. Those disposable lighters are useless," said the T-G.
"Awful if he got turned into fish fingers," said Geoffrey.
"Meat fingers, actually," said Peter Edant, pushing up the sash window and sticking his oar in.
"I suppose you better come in before we all expire from the cold, Edant. But do try to control your more boring propensities," I said.
"Oooh! get you uncle Tuppy! Porpensities!" it was Tuppence - sticking his oar in as well. They both clambered in the window.
"PROpensities, actually," murmured Edant.
"Tuppence! what on earth are you doing here?"
"Yes! You see? You can't get rid of me so easily. I was wearing a life preserver, remember!"
We all exchanged glances.
"You don't still want to harpoon baby Orca and turn him into fish fingers, I hope?"
"Of course I do! think of it - we'd have our own food supply right through the winter and beyond, and that's AFTER we've sold the bulk of it to Speedispend and made our fortunes!"
"But that's WRONG, Tuppence."
"In what respect?" frowned my nephew.
"Killing your fellow creatures, and eating them. Let me explain why," began the T-G.
"Okay - I can see this is going to take a while so I'll just put a few sausage rolls in the oven and make up some ham sandwiches to keep us going..."
They all stared at me.
"Well? oh - I see. Well, let me remind you that I was key to the release of the lactating ewes from the Hulks in summer 2008. Remember?" ( see previous posts)
"That's all very well Tuppy. But you only did that because they were sheep like yourself. What about other animals? You don't seem to bother so much about pigs and cows."
I rushed into the kitchen in a huff and didn't come out for four days...