I wrote this on a Tuesday morning, as I was dropping two pigs off at the butcher.
This is one of the hardest days for a farmer. Today two of my piggies are going to the butcher. One of the ways I know that I am a farmer is that it is so hard for me to do this. To me, that means that I have given these piggies everything that I can so that they can have a good life. I eat meat. I’ve tried being a vegetarian for ethical reasons but I just feel ill (and get sick) after a few weeks with no meat. And for me to eat meat and have a conscience, I need to know that the animals had the best life possible. So this is why I do what I do. I love these piggies from the time that they are tiny piglets. I give them scratches. I talk to them. They know they are loved. And beyond all of the things I do to keep them healthy, that love is the part that I think makes all the difference.
So I celebrate these piggies. And I celebrate the pain I’m feeling right now.
I feel the same with my other animals, but pigs hold a special place in my heart.