I've always found it super weird that most people aren't able to ...what, 'accept' the idea of eating animals you've raised yourself. Like, I spent a fair bit of my youth living on a farm, helping raise pigs -eventually even helping process them when it came time to cull them for meat.
As far as I'm concerned, my uncle gave them a good life, me and my cousins loved them as well, fed them in person, played with them, sometimes even took them on walks (pigs are actually quite like dogs in terms of behavior, just much, much larger). Yeah, we kill them, sure, but ...that's why we raised them, and if not us, surely someone else, somewhere else would have raised pigs regardless. In far, far less loving conditions.
...then again I also just have a particularly nihilistic view on life in general that amounts to, "if everyone's gonna die eventually, enjoy what time you've got left", so I guess it makes sense that I'd be more okay with it than most.