Lives in the balance: Caring for both people and animals

I am a proponent of animal welfare. That value was engrained in me as a child as my family, just like the generations before them had, cared for the hogs and cattle that supported our livelihood.

We also had dogs and cats and occasionally poultry, meat rabbits or pet rabbits. Mom had a horse.

My parents made sure we understood that animals rely on us for food, for shelter and for humane handling. That responsibility wasn’t abstract.

It lived in the way they cared for our hogs, checking their fresh water and keeping things calm when sorting them. It showed up in how our cattle were cared for, making sure pastures were in good condition and shelter was available from weather extremes.

When we worked cattle, we moved quietly, using low-stress handling, following our parents’ lead. Watching for signs of illness, noticing when an animal wasn’t quite acting right and responding quickly all became second nature.

Those early lessons about responsibility, patience and respect for every living creature shape me to this day.

Because of that upbringing, I’ve always believed deeply in practical, hands-on animal care, the kind rooted in real experience. In my view, good animal welfare isn’t optional; it is responsible and central to sustainable farming.

But I also can’t ignore the reality that many national organizations — some with multimillion-dollar budgets — spend far more on marketing, lobbying and fundraising than on actually improving the lives of animals.

Meanwhile, countless children in our own communities go without stable homes, nutritious food, medical care, or emotional support.

If people invested even a fraction of the money they pour into massive animal “rights” organizations into helping children in this country, the impact could be nothing short of transformative.

Imagine if even a portion of those resources went toward improving foster-care systems, providing mental-health services for at-risk youth, supporting early-childhood education, or making sure no child goes to bed hungry. The difference could be staggering.

The return on investment, measured in human potential, stability and long-term societal health, would far exceed what many of these organizations currently achieve with their sprawling fundraising machines.

My point isn’t that animals don’t deserve care; they absolutely do, and I will always stand for humane treatment. But bring back balance.

Everyday farmers and ranchers quietly uphold high standards of animal welfare without fanfare, without fundraising drives and without vilifying others. They do the work because it is the right thing to do.

Meanwhile, vulnerable children — our future workforce, leaders, families — often lack a comparable chorus of support.

If we could shift even a portion of our collective attention and resources toward them, imagine the ripple effect: Healthier kids. Stronger families. More resilient communities. A future in which compassion isn’t limited to one cause, but shared more equitably across all who need it.

That, to me, is the kind of stewardship — of animals, of people, of society — that truly reflects the values I was raised with.