How I came to vegetarianism, or "If it tries to get away, maybe you shouldn't eat it"

Sonora Rose, or "Sunny" as we knew her, came from a pet store in Arizona. She was a Bichon Frise/Cocker Spaniel mix with a careful way of being. At one time she was quite curious and friendly to all. Then she was roughed up by a larger dog while we were walking her in a crowd during a summer street event. There was no evidence of injury, but it seems from that point she was cautious to a fault around other dogs. I remember one time her trying to get away from a small, playful Bichon puppy as though to say, "I don't know who you think I am but I'm certainly not a dog!" She was a cuddler and a lover of people-food. So, like many of us, maybe she was confused about who she was.

Sunny died February 12, 2011. She was a beautiful animal. Her white, curly coat was somehow perfected as she was laid on the vet's table. Her dark, Sunny-less eyes seemed to read like graffiti on a wall in my mind, "Sunny was here". Seeing her there through tears, a layer of confusion about who I am as a human animal was lifted. I suddenly had this odd thought, "How is she different from any other animal? If I wouldn't dare to think to eat her, why would I eat any animal?" While I had been considering the idea of not eating meat before, this image of her has served as reason enough to become serious about being a vegetarian.  She's one of my mental talismans. 

Maybe it's just me getting older, but I am more serious about clearing this confusion around who I am. And, for me in what I feel is a less confused state, lessening suffering by not eating other animals is the right thing to do.