I cannot really say I am certain about how edible animals feel about being a stew. I don't know. But I can make a few assumptions drawing from the few odd decades I have lived as a black Zulu woman with rural connections and a family that has not birthed a vegan in the four generations I am familiar with. My boldest assumption is that animals somehow understand that their fate leads to a mix with Knorrox and potatoes – but their motto in life is “no surrender”. You would know this if you ever had to chase a rainbow-feathered cock with a razor-sharp pedicure around a farm, incurred a few scratches on your legs and still ate both its feet.

In all the years of watching the preparation of fresh meat for suppers and special events I have never known humans to have said, “Oh no! It ran for its life, leave it. We can't kill it now”, and have eaten salted carrots instead...