I was originally drawn to her because of the rare quality of her breeding. The moment I saw the young female, I knew that I was the perfect person to be entrusted to see her through to the end.
I had had a young female the year before, a close
relative of hers, and her fine heritage took me aback. She spoiled me for life:
I couldn’t go back to having those of an inferior caliber again. When it was
time that I wanted to have another one, I knew I wanted one of her pedigree
once more, but I didn’t want to just be a passive bystander in her death again.
Something within me needed a different experience. This time, I had to actively
participate in her death, until her last shudder, and follow that through to
her complete disassembly. The entirety of the young female would be used very
purposefully and with great intention.
She had been born into a life of high standards. Being
a rare creature myself, I recognized this in her. There are too many females of
interior genetics, ones who are common and low born, and this one was cut from
a different cloth. She was special and lovely and she had to be that way in
order for me to consider having her as mine. Of course I wanted to see how she
lived so I would have a deeper appreciation of how she was to die.
I wanted her parts, the internal organs, her
viscera, the blood of her, still fresh and warm. I wanted her tender flesh, cut
from her with my trusted instruments and pulled with my own hands. I wanted to
understand the elegant, clever design of her before I consumed her, and I
wanted to break her down personally. I wanted to find creative uses for every
last inch of her so her life wouldn’t have been taken in vain.
Seeing her in out her natural habitat, breathing in
the crisp autumn air, I knew that I made the right decision. She wasn't like
the others, the poor, pathetic creatures that have been so damaged by poor
genetics and circumstances. This one was different. She was a perfect specimen
of her variety, a natural female, her pretty cheeks warmed by the sun to a golden
peach. This was a young female who had felt gentle breezes blowing through her auburn
hair, who had never been mistreated by course, rough hands, who had dined on
organic blueberries she’d plucked from a neighbor’s garden with her own
graceful hands. I insisted that she live no less of a life before I would take
it from her.
That day, I spent an hour getting to know her and
she seemed to trust me from the start. I rubbed her shoulders, and I touched
her hair, warm from the sun. She was playful, affectionate, spirited. She
smiled easily, clearly enjoying this life, and she had no idea of my
intentions. This began to make me very uneasy but I told myself that it was
better this way, better that her life would end with someone she trusted rather
than at a stranger’s hands in an unfamiliar, cold setting. This was much more
humane. Breathing deeply to keep my emotions in check, I held her hands in
mine. I looked my young female in the eye. I told her that I was grateful for
what she was about to give me. I may have even shed a tear. I have consumed
countless young females in my lifetime, but being there then was a deeper,
richer experience, though one fraught with tension. I wouldn’t have traded it
for anything in the world.
In the end, her death was astonishingly quick and
easy – two quick bullets - which is fortunate because there was no time to
waste.
First I carefully undressed her and then I began
collecting my blood. I’d never had this before so it was a priority. I had to
make that everything was positioned right to bleed my body properly, otherwise
all that good blood would be squandered. It was a struggle propping everything
correctly and I questioned whether I was cut out for this work but in the end,
I was successful and I am very glad that I had the persistence to see this
dream of mine – fresh blood – realized and that I didn’t quit.
That task completed, there was a lot of work ahead
of me, which meant scalding, scraping, cutting through fat, muscles, tendons,
and tugging out organs. As repulsive as it might sound to an outsider, it was a
breathtakingly clean and methodical process, breaking down the body bit by bit and
seeing how the organs looked and felt close up: the heart, the kidneys, the
bladder, one by one, I observed them with the cool-headed precision of a
surgeon and gently placed them in my container. The bright pink lungs in
particular, lungs that just a short time ago had breathed in the same cool fall
air as I, were especially noteworthy. She did not disappoint.
Separating the intestines from the fat and other
tissues meant that with just a good cleaning, I now had sausage casing
that I had pulled from a body I chose with my own hands and technical skills. It
was hard to not feel prideful pulling out handful after handful of healthy
intestine. This makes it all worthwhile,
I thought to myself as my organ container continued to fill, steam slowly rising
from it. The young female was no longer of this world but all these different
parts and pieces would extend her far life beyond her reach as a living being. The
incredible responsibility I felt of needing to continue to provide stewardship
for the young female even after her death was a profound realization.
After she was fully broken down and stored
properly, I felt I owed it to myself and to her to finally enjoy the fruits of
my labor. Carving bits of her flesh on my butcher block, I was able to quietly to
reflect on our symbiotic relationship: she gave her life to provide nourishment
for me and I was able to consume her with true appreciation for her fine
quality. We gave this to each other.
In a beloved cast iron skillet that once belonged
to my grandmother, I sautéed delicately sliced pieces of her flesh with minced
garlic, baby carrots, parsnips and fresh purple basil and thyme from my garden. The scent of
her filled the air: rich, savory, mouthwateringly alluring. A splash of her
blood to thicken the sauté was an inspired improvisation, I think.
Sitting down to finally enjoy the meal I’d created,
I knew that I had made the right choice. She was tender but perfectly
substantial, sinewy in certain places but nicely balanced by her delicate
texture. Her flavor so effectively captured her essence that at times, it was
as if she was still with me, sitting across the table from me, her hair
glinting in the candlelight. I toasted her spirit.
In all, it was a beautiful, bittersweet experience.
I couldn’t help ruminating on how she slumped back with that first bullet, the
look of shock and horror marring her perfect features along with the spray of blood. I thought of how much
work it was to collect all the blood, how exhausted I felt, pulling out the intestines
but how I had to do right by this young female. She would live on to be my
steaks, sausages, burgers and bacon for the year as well as provide bits for stew,
gravy, casings and so on. I think she would be proud to know how very well used
she would be.
After this experience, I will never again take
another’s life and death for granted. When it comes time for me to harvest
another young female, I will bring this same intentionality and poignancy. It will be my gift back to those who give me their lives and it is my gift to myself. I
will do right by all the future young females who will grace my butcher block.
You can count on that.
_________________________________________
If you think that this is extreme, please read this
first hand account of the slaughter of a pig by popular Chicago butcher, Rob
Levitt. With me just making one simple, easy switch of who the victim is,
suddenly it’s evident that the story was written by a psychopath, despite the key
details remaining essentially unchanged.
The self-aggrandizement, as well as the perfectly clinical
and Hannibal Lecter-esque narrative, were deeply disturbing to me in Rob
Levitt’s essay. It is one thing to mindlessly eat animals. It is another thing
to romanticize the special flesh you consume, to repeat the narcissistic myths you
want to think that eating it says about you. Make no mistake, it is the mindless
consumption that is creating the immense death toll of ten billion land animals
in the U.S. each year, but it is this arrogant, self-serving mentality of
entitlement that is so pervasive among Happy Meat enthusiasts that I find
deeply chilling. It is also what has me thinking as a satirist.
If my essay was disturbing to you, that is a good
thing. It means you can still feel. Thanks to Nicole from Upton's Naturals, a dedicated vegan protein company, for bringing it to my attention.
Wow, Marla! Disturbing indeed. I was taken aback by an exvegan's comment recently that "animals with names taste better." That, of course, got lots of approval by other meat-eaters. Am I the only one who sees how demented that sounds??
ReplyDeleteBecause this account is deeply disturbing, so many people refuse to look at where their meat and diary comes from. Can only hope this will change with more and more education.
ReplyDeleteThis is one of your best posts ever.
ReplyDeleteExcellent. Very creepy. You should send a copy to Growing Hearts Farm in honor of Chester.
ReplyDeleteI would tell you how great it is, but I am now profoundly depressed. :-(
ReplyDeleteAnonymous, and you refer to [???]? The butcher Rob Levitt or the writer (Marla) who simply made a switch of who the victim is?
ReplyDeleteFor the sake of your sanity, I would hope that you refer to the butcher.
Don't know about you, but the post in the Reader made me hungry. And I will take a meat-eater over you morons who like animals more than people.
ReplyDeleteGo forth into your frothing moral outrage ....
Thank you, Angela. That is indeed demented and creepy.
ReplyDeleteI agree with you, Robin. People have to be honest about their actions, too. Good people eat animals. There are many layers of disconnect that our society fosters, though, and that can be difficult to cut through. Sometimes people need to be jolted into seeing the reality of a situation.
ReplyDeleteThank you, sweet Vanilla Rose!
ReplyDeleteThank you, Rhea. I will look into what you are referencing. I've been a bit under a rock lately.
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry, Rebecca! It is depressing, I agree.
ReplyDeleteAnonymous, I don't know who you are referring to but whether it is me or Rob Levitt (the butcher), that was a profoundly unkind thing to say.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Lisa. In either case, it was very unkind.
ReplyDeleteReally, Thad? Where is the evidence that we "like animals over people"? There is not room enough to be compassionate to human and non-human animals? That is sad.
ReplyDeleteMoral outrage is what wakes people up to injustices. If you are fine just "getting hungry" when you read about animal slaughter, that is your prerogative. Some of us, though, like to use our voices to speak out against unnecessary violence. If you want to continue doing whatever it is you do, no one is stopping you.
Damn Vegans just want to alter the circle of life as if that is going to change everything and make us one big happy earth.
ReplyDeleteKeep drinking your carrot juice kool aid spiked with some PETA poop
As long as you're on top of the food chain, right, Anonymous? Then everything is fine. Privilege is a beautiful thing to those who have it.
ReplyDeleteMmm, carrot juice Kool Aid with PETA poop...Now you're talking, Nony!
Marla, so lets make sure humans aren't at the top of the food chain and try and get Lions back on top?!?!?
ReplyDeleteOne day your going wake up and wonder why you wasted so much time trying to change something that's been in place since man first walked the earth. Off to enjoy some bacon...
Slavery has been around for thousands of years. Rape. War. I will still stand in opposition to them. Further, this is not about you versus a lion. This is about making ethical, compassionate choices in the here and now or choosing to fall back on your privileges. (Ones you did nothing to earn, by the way.) Eat that bacon, anonymous. Don't think about others. Maintain your privileges. I hope that one day you will wake up and wonder why you wasted so much time doing just that instead of exercising your critical thinking and compassion.
ReplyDeleteWell done, Marla. Horrifying, but well done.
ReplyDeleteThe Silence of the Lambs still Haunts Me. I can't watch a CSI episode without thinking of the women butchered by pig farmer Willy Pickton only hours from where I live. This satire is horrifying and gut wrenching, but someone had to do it. Thankyou Marla. It will be difficult for me to share close to home…it is just so incredibly painful for women who already know that their sisters have been commodified and turned into pieces of meat, literally- and yet who still blindly eat the flesh of non-human animals- to face their own complicity in unnecessary death of non-human animals without feeling further victimized…this is a real catch 22, and I am trying to figure out how to navigate this topic in my own community where locavore butchers include my sisters. Some of them 'empowered' to kill their own food construct elaborate fantasies about what they are doing to legitiimize it. ('same as harvesting plants…it's all about 'giving thanks')
ReplyDeleteThis is a very tricky subject, and I thank you for this bold, brave step in truth telling.
And by the way…whomever declared on this thread that they are going off to eat bacon…you just outed yourself here as exhibit A. Especially after reading this post, you KNOW the word 'bacon' is nothing more than a 'construct' conveniently employed by you and others to pretend that the animal fearfully killed…not for your survival, but for carnist pleasure... was different from the family dog. The differences physiologically, mentally, and emotionally, are completely negligible. You are only deluding yourself.
The Silence of the Lambs still Haunts Me. I can't watch a CSI episode without thinking of the women butchered by pig farmer Willy Pickton only hours from where I live.
ReplyDeleteThis satire is horrifying and gut wrenching, but someone had to do it. Thankyou Marla. It will be difficult for me to share close to home…I know it is just too incredibly painful for women who already recognize that their sisters have been commodified and turned into pieces of meat, literally- and yet who still blindly eat the flesh of non-human animals- to face their own complicity in the unnecessary death of non-human animals without feeling further victimized…
This is a real catch 22, and I am trying to figure out how to navigate this topic in my own community where locavore butchers include my sisters. Some of them 'empowered' to kill their own food construct elaborate fantasies about what they are doing to legitiimize it. ('same as harvesting plants…and 'it's all about giving thanks to spirit', etc, etc)
This is a very tricky subject, and I thank you for this bold, brave step in truth telling, Marla. It cannot have been easy to do.
And by the way…whomever declared on this thread that they are going off to eat bacon…you just outed yourself here as exhibit A. Especially after reading this post, you KNOW the word 'bacon' is nothing more than a 'construct' conveniently employed by you and others to pretend that the animal killed…not for your survival, but for your claimed carnist privilege and pleasure... was different from the family dog. The differences physiologically, mentally, and emotionally, are completely negligible. You are only deluding yourself.
it is amazing though not surprising how violently people who exploit and kill others for their own personal gratification get when their cognitive dissonance is pointed out to them. this reminds me of one of my favorite quotes:
ReplyDelete"In their behavior toward creatures, all men are Nazis. Human beings see oppression vividly when they're the victims. Otherwise they victimize blindly and without a thought." ― Isaac Bashevis Singer
I'd say your story is a little TOO realistic, Marla. http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/10/25/nypd-officer-gilbert-valle-attempted-kidnapping-cannibalism-cooking_n_2017108.html
ReplyDeleteAmazing work Marla! In reality anyone that can justify consuming one type of animal flesh can do so with others. Technically - If we're not going to "waste" the meat, blood and bones of cows, pigs and chickens --- I just don't know what makes wasting human flesh acceptable? After all... Why were we made of meat too? Creepy stuff! Thanks for bringing it to closer inspection.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Fireweed. Thanks for your kind words and your insights. I agree that it is a difficult subject and it was actually scary for me to write in that voice. I can understand why you would be reluctant to share it. It's not one that I wrote lightly.
ReplyDeleteWell said, Anonymous.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Rebecca. That is terrifying.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Bea, and I agree with you that it is incredibly creepy stuff...
ReplyDeletekeep writing...your stuff is awesome.
ReplyDeleteDid you know that you can shorten your long urls with Shortest and get $$$$$ for every visitor to your shortened links.
ReplyDelete