Bacon

  Our pig, lovingly named Bacon.  We had her for over a year.   We got her with intention of raising her for meat, so we always knew that this day would come.  I had mixed feelings for sure, I didn't love her, she wasn't soft and cuddly or sweet.  She was in ever aspect a PIG, she snorted and rooted and escaped from her pen and knocked against you while we were trying to feed her or give her straw for bedding.  She smelled and at one point got mud so caked on her tail I had to take a Benchmade and amputate part of it.  

  No one said having animals was easy.  No one said it is fun.  The day I had to "fix" her tail was not fun, Travis was still gone, Chloe was helping me try to get the mud off and it just wasn't working.  The boys were napping so time was limited.  So ankle deep in mud I made a decision.  It had to just come off.  She didn't even make a peep and with one quick swipe it was done.  Yes, there was blood but she was able to swing her tail once again and didn't seem to mind.  Chloe on the other hand was a bit green when all was said and done.

  Then the day finally came where everyones schedules lined up and Bacon was to meet her end.  The Friday before we researched and prepped and that morning we set up tables and a heater for the garage getting ready for the day.  I have never witnessed anything being killed. I never grew up with a family that hunted.  But, I am not naive enough to think my meat comes from the grocery store in a pretty plastic package, I know what happens to get it there.  We had a wonderful team that day.  A friend from work and her husband and 3 sons and daughter-in-law come out along with another friend and couple teenage boys curious as to what exactly would happen. 

  I had not planned on being out there in the beginning, I didn't know if I could handle it and Chloe had said she didn't want to be out there either.  But things moved fast and as it happened we were.  It was strange.  To see her no longer alive.  I would like to say it was fast but the body doesn't just stop, there are nerve firings and things that must happen that make muscles jerk.  I still have feelings of sadness, not that I miss her but just the feelings of respect that comes from something giving it's life so that you can sustain yours.  It is a sober thought for sure.

  The ladies went inside and let the men and boys handle the front end of the operation.  We made laundry soap and fire starters and joked about our pioneer style day on the farm.  It was a beautiful day outside and really just a great time with friends.  

  I did eventually wonder outside, out of pure curiosity.  I have taken anatomy classes, actually had a fetal pig we had to dissect and keep in a bucket of formaldehyde - it came home with me once.  I see blood at work - I am not squeamish by any means, but it still seemed odd.  As I came into the barn there she was no longer looking like I had once known her and then I was handed a liver.  From that point on things went fast, everyone was in the garage and the guys made work of the meat.  I walked out to the barn and a team was busy at work with cleaning up the "evidence" of what had just taken place out there.  Things were rinsed and shoveled and raked and buried.  Little to no signs remained.

  We got sausage and hams and bacon and tenderloins.  There was a great rhythm going.  Things were cut and passed to either me, the bagger and vacuum sealer or to Kim and her son who cut it into smaller pieces so it could be handed off to Tim who was in charge of the grinder.  Then once things were sealed and a pile formed we took turns running it to the freezer.  We were done in 4 1/2 hours start to finish.  Everyone helped with clean up.  Couldn't have asked for a better day.  

  When all was done we set down and enjoyed pizza and conversation, worn out from the day.  We sent our wonderful helpers off with meat, eggs, laundry soap and fire starters.  A true mountain day.