A bittersweet pig tale

This is Wilbur, a little red pig who has traveled all the way from Burgessville for a very special occasion.  He has been invited to a New Years Eve feast, a feast to which Albert and I are also invited.  Unfortunately for Wilbur, he happens to be the main course.

I have mixed feelings about eating Wilbur.  That’s not true; my feelings aren’t mixed.  They’re antagonistic to the notion of eating Wilbur.  Every feeling revolts against killing a baby creature for food.  I want to shield him from the deathblow, put him in a warm pen with a straw bed and pour a bucket of hot, nourishing mash into his little trough so that he can grow up big and squealy.

But Wilbur is not my pig.  I can only take comfort from the assurance from his executioner that he will go in a humane way and with as little suffering as possible.  And at the end of the day, that is the best that can be hoped for a little red pig who has traveled all the way from Burgessville for a very special occasion.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: