Xmas Pig

December 25th, 2009

We decided that we shouldn't name the pig. We figured if we named
it, we wouldn't eat it and that would ruin Christmas dinner for sure. Even
without naming it you start to get attached fast. The two kids who were
holding the pig down were waiting for me to take over so that they could
take payment and get on with their day. How much rope do you need to tie up
a pig? What do you tie it to? It's gotta hold til tomorrow at 11am, the
determined hour of . . . well, you know. OK, about eight feet? How about
to the pole that holds up the roof in the "conference room." Yeah, that'll
do, then the guards can watch him and make sure he doesn't get out. Uh oh.
The pig just became a "him." Crap, just don't name him, otherwise the BBQ
pit was a total waste of time. Best to keep my distance.
I give the rope to the guards and move on to the next order of
business, finalizing payment. Jeez Louise, you gotta pick the pig up by one
leg and his ear? That is horrible! He clearly doesn't like it, he's
screaming like a, well, like a pig being carried by his friggin' ear! I
don't know if I can do this. I begin to question if I just accidentally
became a vegetarian by way of trying to make Christmas dinner a little more
interesting. You hear people say, that if you can't kill the animal
yourself, you shouldn't eat it, ach, how close do you need to be? I mean,
the point of that is to say that most people couldn't stomach their animal
products if they actually knew what goes into it. Am I learning this lesson
now?
Horrible squealing stops. Come back, pig's tied up, rope around one
leg to the pole in the meeting hut adjacent to the guard post. They can
keep an eye on him til tomorrow. Poor little guy is totally freaked out,
rope stretched taught. Whatever you do don't name him. Certainly not
anything cute or memorable like . . . aaah, there you go, not gonna fall for
that one, you can't even suggest a name, 'cause he's just begging for one.
Give him some water or something though, huh? We're really gonna do this,
we're gonna eat this pig for dinner tomorrow?
Come back later, water pan is tipped over, probably not a sip drank.
What do pigs eat? I see them sniffing stuff around the village all the time
but the only thing I have ever seen them literally eat is cow shit. But I
bet they like green leaves. Or grass? Should you even feed a pig before a
slaughter? Better not risk it. I go to grab the pan to refill it, little
pig totally snaps at me. Aw, I scared him. Better let him be.
Before going home, check on pig. The pig. Remember, his name's not
anything, not even pig. Don't name it. He has completely destroyed
everything within reach of his circumference. He's wound the rope all up in
the benches. I go in to see if I can maybe untangle him a little, 'cause I
know the guards won't do it and I don't want him to have to spent all night
tangled up like that. He totally tries to attack me. Good thing his rope
was tangled and he only had about a foot to lunge.
Dinner that night there is discussion about meat eating, ethics,
etc. Just don't name it.
Morning. Pig still there? Still there. Pig tries to attack our
doctor who is just having a sympathetic look. What an ungrateful bastard!
I am still afraid that I will feel guilty but the pig's behavior is not
winning him any points. My fence sitting however is no match for the linear
nature of time and 11am rolls up pretty fast. I nervously keep an ear open
for signs of suffering but from a safe distance, outside the office across
the street. And then, without any fanfare, one little squeal and 11am is
over. I tentatively mosey over to the yard where the kitchen is to have a
car wreck peek. Oh, it's not so bad. This part I've seen. Pig hanging, no
skin, just like at the butchers. Radio to the house, tell the guards there
to get the charcoal going.
I conclude that pigs are tastier than they are cute. I posthumously
name the pig Clarise (I never bothered to check the sex, so now it's a girl
pig).