Welfare is a concept commonly applied to the animals in our care. We want our animal friends to flourish by having a stimulating life with good food, health care and the opportunities of choice to regulate their own physical and social environments. This should be the obvious standard for our companion animals, our zoological and working partners and shelter animals. These standards are also becoming more relevant to the agricultural industry. Animals raised for human consumption are equally deserving of welfare’s best practices. But what about the animals raised for animal consumption? Is anyone looking out for them?
Live food is the technical term for animals raised to be fed (usually, but not always) live to other predators and omnivores in managed care settings. That’s a very dry way to describe the many insects, rodents, reptiles and fish commonly fed to our pets and managed wildlife who require such food for their welfare. Feeder animals are no less worthy of our welfare concern and should not be ignored because “ they’re just going to be fed out anyway.”
When that bird keeper introduced me to this concept of welfare equality years ago, I immediately thought about that cup of mealworms sitting in my fridge at home. My husband and I sometimes provide mealworm treats to the wild native lizards outside our kitchen door. (They are not dependent on us, but they do get provisioned on an occasional basis.) The accepted practice of pet food providers is to sell live mealworms in a plastic cup, filled with tens to hundreds of worms piled atop each other, buffeted only by some bran flakes as food and kept refrigerated to suppress normal bodily functions like movement, eating and waste. Often, there are more fecal pellets than bran flakes and as many dead bodies as live worms. When examined objectively, it is painfully clear that this situation is a welfare disaster.
Armed with this obvious truth and a desire to do better, my husband and I promptly changed our mealworm care plan. We dumped out the whole cup on a plate and separated all of the live worms from everything else. We washed the stinking cup and filled it with uncooked oatmeal and a few thinly sliced apple pieces. Then we returned the worms to the cup and left them out on the counter at room temperature. Soon, all of the worms were ravenously feasting on apples, buffeted in oatmeal flakes and active. We checked daily on their progress, removing the curled apple skins and providing fresh apples as needed, removing any damp oatmeal. During their time with us, they grew larger, some becoming pupas. They remained active and their cup never stank. As we fed them out, the remaining worms had more space and less competition. And ultimately, they were a bigger and healthier food source for our lizard friends.
I am a firm believer in the phrase, “the proof is in the behavior.” This is true when questioning the validity of our animal communication as well as our welfare choices. Could we do better for our mealworms by providing a more naturalistic environment for them in their final days? Sure. But have we have taken a significant step toward a better life by providing them with better food and housing? Absolutely. My husband and I directly see the benefits with every batch of worms we revitalize. And you can too. Expand your welfare practice to include your live food friends. Every step we take to improve the lives of others is a step worth taking!