Last night, I bought new shoes: snakeskin and patent leather ballet flats. At least two animals had to die in order for me to wear these shoes. Oh, and they have metal trim, so add countless innocent bugs displaced by the mining, and possibly a dead bird or two. (If they're old-school like that--Tweety, you go first and tell me if you die!)
It's okay, though, my PETA-friends. I got them at a thrift store, so everything was murdered for someone else first. I'm helping with sustainable shoe-harvesting!
(True: I grew up in very rural Wisconsin, where my family raised rabbits to eat and pygmie goats to sell as indoor pets. This seemed normal.)