Directly across the road, a mammoth boar rises when he sees us coming. He lumbers over, either to say hello or to shoo us away from his harem; in a hutch, three sows are sleeping soundly. “He’s a pretty busy guy,” says Haney proudly, stepping over the wire to rub his back. The boar, its tan bristles caked in dirt, shuts its eyes and submits. He’ll likely live to a ripe old age, and the sows he mates with will be put down humanely and butchered for sausage at Blue Hill at Stone Barns. The farm’s pork will cost more than the pork at Key Food, but that isn’t the worst thing in the world. Maybe we’ll eat less of it and cook it at home, instead of gorging our kids on fast food. Like the livestock we raise, we’ve grown fat and sick, dependent on a bitches’ brew of drugs. We’ve got a choice to make, and it only means our lives: We can treat our animals better and heal our bodies in the bargain, or become the last of the planet’s finite resources gone hopelessly to seed.
— Animal Cruelty Is the Price We Pay for Cheap Meat | Rolling Stone