What the Phoque is Wrong with Eating Seal Meat?
The Mere Suggestion of Eating Seal Meat Led to a Neighborhood Assault
My first instinct was to send her a message to “Phoque Off!” when she made a nasty comment about me eating seal meat, but I demurred. (The French word for seal is phoque. As an aside, we had a lot of fun learning that word in Grade 6 French class and calling each other seals: “You are a little phoque”).
I have always wanted to try seal meat. Some consider it a “super-food,” extremely healthy, and high in Omega-3. So I was thinking of ordering some from an online fish market supplier. I belong to a neighborhood chat group, and in my naivete sent out a message to EVERYONE asking if anybody would be interested in adding to the order. Big mistake. I had forgotten about the whole controversy surrounding seal hunting. The result was not actually a neighborhood “assault,” but some very intense and heated debates.
This particular neighbour, whom we will call Bertha, sent me a very disapproving comment. She was indignant and appalled that I would ever consider eating seal meat, insisting that these adorable pups of the sea should be a protected animal species. In addition to my bilingual slur, I briefly thought of sending her a link to a YouTube video of Inuit hunting and eating seal, including sucking the juice out of the eyeballs. But I chose to be considerate and respectful instead.
To allay her fears of the myth of cruel and indiscriminate slaughtering of these cute, innocent, and beloved creatures, I felt obliged to recount the whole back story of the seal meat I was planning to purchase.
Below is a copy of the message I sent her:
“The seal fins actually come from three pet seals who all died of natural causes within days of each other. They lived in a bay near the home of the McLaren family not far from St. John’s, Newfoundland. The family fed the seals, who eventually became so tame the family adopted them as pets with names: Herman, Melville, and Moby.
They would hop unto shore to visit with the McLarens. The family’s kids would rub noses with the seals, play with their whiskers, and scratch them gently behind their eyes. Herman learned to balance a ball on his nose all on his own. Melville would clap his fins together every time the family came to visit. The family felt sorry for the seals, who had to eat the same boring fish diet every day. So they would give them other meat to taste. Moby especially liked rib-eye steak.
For reasons unknown, one day the seals all washed up on the shore, having died of seemingly natural causes. The family was heart-broken, but decided to promptly sell the seals to a local fish market who inspected the quality of the meat. I was planning to order from this fish market. We can be thankful that no seal was harmed in any way to obtain this meat.”
OK. I did not actually send this message, but I was tempted. At least for now, I won’t be tasting any seal meat. For seafood, I will have to revert to the same boring fish diet as the seals themselves. Or maybe a rib-eye steak, of course from a pet cow who died of natural causes.
