Pig Wrangling

Tuesday the time had come to take one of our pigs to the butcher. I must admit that I had no idea how hard it would be to get one pig in a trailer.  Maybe she knew more about her fate then I gave her credit for.  How convenient that my husband was at work and left the job of loading the pig to our older kids and me.

We entered the pig pen with few ideas on exactly how we would accomplish our goal.  Basically, we were going to just shoo her into the trailer, shut the door and pat each other on the back.  In hind sight, I now see the folly of that plan.  The reality was much different and much funnier, or so my husband thought. 

When we first entered the pig's arena they looked harmless, even friendly.  They thought they were going to be fed and left to fight over who would get the best bits, as usual.  We started by moving the feeder by the make-shift loading chute.  This chute was the outer fence and an old gate my bother-in-law had given us.  Parked at the end of the gate was our cattle trailer.  It looked like they would eat as we opened the gate and then we could gently encourage them toward the trailer.  If only that plan had worked!

We had three pigs; Becky Bacon, Penelope and Hammer the Ham.  Penelope, was by far, the largest of the three.  We zoned in on her as we moved closer to the unsuspecting pigs.  Unfortunately, instead of moving them toward the trailer they got spooked and ran to the other end of their rather sizable pen.  Now the fun began.  We spent the next 45 minutes getting the pigs close to the chute and then watching them run as we tried to get them in the trailer.  The pigs suddenly looked different to me.  They were no longer the cute little piggies that followed us around and snorted for food.  When I looked at them now all I saw was dumb, obstinante swine.

Finally, in desperation, I called for our seceret weapon...dog food.  Dog food is like "piggy crack", they will do anything for it.  I stared throwing some by Penelope, hoping to make a trail of dog food she would follow right into the trailer.  We made a path to the trailer and then when she felt the least little bit confined, she would bolt.  We went through three cups of dog food before we started feeling like maybe we could do this.

I must admit that I did picture myself having to call my husband and tell him we just couldn't do it.  Would he be mad, diappointed, not care?  I thought, "One more try, then if we fail I will call him."

Finally, we got Penelope in the chute.  She was facing backwards but I was hopeful that she would back inthe trailer on her own.  No, that was not to be.  We had to give her a little space to turn around but not so much she would push her way out.  Our youngest daughter had a broom to "encourage" her to move.  When she finally turned and saw I had dog food left, she hopped right in.  We closed the doors and collased in a pile of smelly, dirty pride. 

I am voting that my husband gets in on the fun next time a pig has to be loaded.

Chicken's to love or chicken's to eat?

That is the real question isn't it?  My youngest daughter would say we need to keep them to love.  My husband would say they are to eat.  I am somewhere in the middle.  I love our hens and the fresh eggs they give us.  The roosters (or "roos" as some people call them) are a pain.  I wish I could say something nice about them but they are mean.  They also fought with each other and hurt our hens.  We found hens missing feathers and bloody from their roo encounters.  Several weeks ago, I had had it with them.  I informed my husband we would be butchering the roos ASAP. 

Once I made the announcement I started hearing stories.  Stories of horror and gore.  What had I gotten myself (and the rest of my family) into?  I can now say it was not as bad as I thought it might be.  Here are some of the stories I heard and what our experiences were:

1. Blood squirting EVERYWHERE:  I can say that the way my husband put down our boys, there were no headless chickens flopping around.  In about 2 minutes it was all over and the roos didn't act like they felt a thing.  We did have to remove the heads once we were sure they were dead but that was very quick also.

2. The stench:  I think people have memories of being at Grandma's and smelling the hot, wet feathers.  I have to say, there wasn't a lot of odor when we plucked our fellas.  Part of the reason could be that it was fall.  It might be a smellier job in summer.  I also made sure we did almost everything outside.  I did not want a bad odor in my house that seemed to hang around for days.  What we did had to get over, was the feel of the feathers and how they stuck to our hands.  Yuck. 

3. Dealing with the insides:  My husband gutted the boys for me.  I had heard that we needed to be careful when cleaning the innards out as not to contaminate the meat.  My hubby made it look easy and did a great job.  We saved part of the innards but I am not sure what we will do with them.  (Maybe that can be a post in the future...how to cook with chicken guts.)

Overall, the job wasn't bad.  Next time, I will get a different breed of roosters that fattens up faster.  We got very little meat for the amount of food our roos ate through the summer.  We will also try skinning them so we can save the plucking step.  I think they will be cleaner when we are done if they are skinned.  We will also do all of the work outside next time.  This will help save my kitchen from most of the mess.

If you are thinking about getting some chickens to butcher my best advise is don't be afraid.  Go to YouTube and watch videos on "how to butcher chickens" and you will be able to move forward and feel prepared.