This calf is my child. It has feelings no less deep than a child’s
Israel imports calves from Australia on ships where their cruel and unusual punishments only begin.
A calf is like a child. When it is thrown trussed up on the floor, the light taken from its eyes, I know I can’t save it. There’s nothing I can do. God only knows what it has been subjected to in the hold of the ship that brought it here on a transport. (Pardon, a thousand pardons, for using the sacred word that has become a Jewish taboo.) The transport went from Australia to Eilat.
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