is initially an exercise in mental agility. You've got to be able to bounce around from compassion to chewing. Then you get used to it and realize you were probably a softie before, a wussy, a person generally out of touch with the realities of the circle of life.
Anyway, that's my nutshell assessment of eating Blindey, though truth be told, we haven't eaten her yet. She's in the freezer. That's another thing I've learned. Time in the freezer accomplishes two things: it deep chills both the meat and your memories. Pets are easier to eat a couple months later.
Ha. This is reminding me of two things.
One: In "Oh, Brother, Where Art Thou?," do you remember when the cousin is feeding mystery meat to the runaway convicts? He says in a real southern hick drawl, "I slaughtered this horse last Tuesday. I think it's startin' to turn."
Two: In some independent film I saw years ago, an old indiginous woman of a mountain village somewhere sat petting her precious goats. She loved them, revered them, survived by their milk each day. But when it was time for one to be culled for its meat, she'd calmly rub its ears and gently reach down with a knife and slit its neck.
These days, in these parts (western society or so), we're generally pretty compartmentalized about our food and animals and the cycles of biology, yes? Cuz otherwise, we'd join with the rest of the world in saying "Love it while it's living; eat it while it's dead."