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My Dead Cat Saved My Life

Yesterday’s midnight walk through the park on the way to work was an echo of a similar night months ago. Twenty paces from the first corner along the path, I watched a white cat pop out of thick bushes before swinging straight back in. The feline paused halfway through this hasty maneuver to figure me out. Maybe kitty’s too superstitious to cross paths with a black human!

When winter was still in mid-thaw, a black kitten crossed my path exactly where last night’s timid snowball shied. By the time I turned that bushy corner, I was weeping like a toddler. This wasn’t bad luck, but it exhumed overwhelming memories of the black cat I mourn to this day.

His name was Nietzschie. I added an “i” before the last “e” in his name to demand proper pronunciation. You see, I had either read or simply decided that an “ee” sound would catch a cat’s attention more than pronouncing it with the huffy academicism of “NEE-chuh.” And I was right! “Nieee!” I would squeal, and he actually bopped right over! At least way more often than cats are expected to decide to not ignore a human.

We were best friends. We were family.

In 2017, Nie suddenly developed visible tumors that grew rapidly. That September, he died in a veterinary hospital. I’m still not over it.

I was an emotional eater. A day like this called for a whole pizza pie. With ice cream for dessert! Food was my favorite drug. But for the first time in my life, I was too depressed to eat anything at all.

Within days that felt like weeks, my appetite kicked in again. And I was craving fat! The first things I can remember eating were pepperoni and pasteurized cheddar. Now I know better, but this was a baby step. My body had reset itself, and I was naturally gravitating toward keto animal foods!

In retrospect, I had accidentally fasted, priming me for ketosis. My carboholic body was transforming into a fat-burning beast. Little did I know!

I started to learn a little when I paused at the refrigerator door and Googled something like, “Will eating fat kill me?” The answers led me down a rabbit hole that led me to a ketogenic lifestyle. I soon learned that rabbits weren’t fatty enough to eat, and that I shouldn’t be eating like a rabbit!

Have I mentioned my past experiments eating low-fat, high-fiber, with lots of fruits and veggies? I knew junk food was bad, but not how bad. I didn’t know how much damage every little “treat” was doing to my very grown-ass body. And I assumed that I was at the height of health when chugging chunky kale in smoothies.

(The last thing I threw into that blender was a bag of pork rinds for the crust of a keto pizza made entirely of animal products. That was many months ago, and the closest I’ve come to my old habits since ditching highly-processed junk and deceptively toxic plants.)

My transition from the “Standard American Diet” to carnivory is a blur. All I remember is craving fat, giving in, and Googling my way to keto. Somehow, all that typing and clicking led me to Zero Carb Zen.

The carnivore diet seemed like the ultimate application of these heretical revelations. And the most delicious! Not only did I get to eat my fatty animal favorites ― I also got to throw out that last freezer-burnt bag of kale!

Fruits and veggies were making me sick. It didn't make sense, but it did!  Before I could even dip my toes into keto, I was deep-sea diving to eat with the sharks. By Halloween, I had lost a chunk of weight, felt more pep in my step, and finally believed what I was learning. Because it worked!

I don’t regret my dietary past. Without experiencing the carb life that was killing me, I wouldn’t have known how fun it could be ― and that it ain’t worth it!

I do regret ever buying cat food. The same nutritional ignorance and confusion that made me unhealthy was all the more painful for my little carnivore.

We feed our cats and dogs junk. We feed ourselves junk, even when we think it’s healthy. We believe and repeat naive lies that slowly poison us until truth has no meaning. We justify short-term pleasure without knowing how much damage we’re causing to our resilient, but mortal flesh.

Nearly two years into carnivory, I am more committed than ever. I continue to study, experiment, adjust, and evolve. Not just for my own survival, but to do my part in fighting for human health.

I am thrilled to see the carnivorous community growing and thriving, online and off. We need all of you ― all of us ― to continue living well, setting a positive example, and sharing our stories with anyone who asks. You may save a life!

Carnivory is catching on, despite the dietary war being waged against us. We’re up against the rise of pseudo-meat, skewed science, and an overall disconnect from the messy, beautiful truth of raw nature.

Maybe I sound like a conspiracy nut, but I’ve had enough of the bullshit. I’m deliberately letting it get to me now, because this matters too much.

I could just grill while Rome burns, but I’d rather help put out the fire.

I hope you’re with us.

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