Saturday 13 October 2007

The butcher next door...

**A bit of graphic content..may disturb **

My neighbour, who is a bit of a creepola pervarola is also a pig slaughterer. They go hand in hand, really. Oft is the time we hear the squealing of pigs going to meet their maker, or the squeal of bubba piglets going to suckle mama pig's nips... the sound is almost indistinguishable, it's quite bizarre. So anyway, this morning I happened to be sitting out back when the 'bour brings the shackled porker to the front of his house (20 metres from the back of our house) where he has the fire roaring, pan already heating...his 5 year old son (you'll remember the driver from Tuesday) standing a meter away keenly interested in all the kerfufle, even though I'm sure he's seen this a hundred times before. On average a pig is popped off once a week or so.

Now, I'm not a consumer of wee widdle piggies or mooin mooballs, but I do advocate that if you can kill your own meat, then it is much more acceptable to eat it rather than disown the polystyrene slabs in the supermarket (although I'm a complete hypocrite and you won't be catching me hacking off any chicken heads any time, I can do!). That's not my issue...for some reason today, sitting out there, I was completely transfixed at what was transpiring before my eyes. Usually he does the butchering at the back of his house, out sight (but not out of hearing), but for unknown reasons moved to the front today.

**So I'm watching this poor fat piggun with his legs tied up start squealing because he sure as heck knows what's coming and... this is the disturbing took him 10 minutes to kill the poor wee thing. Seriously I was was just so inhumane..the pig was rolling all around with blood spurting everywhere, ear-splitting squealing and he just stood back, knife in hand, with both hands dripping in blood and sweat pouring off him. I almost expected him to roll his head back with an evil cackle and grin, such was the horror. I just can't even comprehend why he didn't try to end its suffering sooner. I'm pretty disturbed that I live in such close proximity to this butcherer. I think all this hideousness occurred because Mr. Creepomater usually has 2 or 3 others helping him to hold the pig down while the pig is killed by a quick slit across the throat, but today he did it himself. He always struts around like he's he-man, so I'm assuming he figured he could do it alone because it was quite a small pig.

Oh yeah, did I mention that the long drawn out cries of horror from the pig was a draw card for all the local kids who stood in rapt attention watching the throat slitting in action. Again, I don't have issues with kids seeing where their meat comes from..the whole circle of life thing, if it's done fast and humanely, but for them to stand witness only a metre away (one had to jump to avoid being kicked by the pig) to this butchery just had me gaping.... and the wife of butch, mother of taxi driver, was sitting not 2 metres away breastfeeding her one year old. Life was just nice and cosy today....

Sorry if I've left you feeling ill, I feel the's just an insight into another world that we are often so removed from. Also, this man is not completely normal..that said though, he's not alone in how he does things here.

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