Excuse me, Ms. Mouse, but you have no right to make snarky remarks about our beliefs or lack of belief in any deity. No, we're not vegans, and couldn't be thanks to the way our digestive system and talons and beak and instincts all work. We hate being close to people with their weird, flat, naked faces like so many owlish vultures, but when we're cold and hungry and spot something moving in the snow, we can't help ourselves any more than, say, Laura Erickson can help herself when passing a refrigerator with Cherry Garcia ice cream. Don't get mad at us for what people do.