Two pigs and two sheep went off to the abattoir today.
The pigs weren’t fed last night cause they’re so greedy that they’ll do anything for food – even walk into their own death trap. We had to herd them up into the lorry and believe me, they take a lot of persuading – they’re against going through black door ways apparently.
From there, once inside the lorry, my mother had to tag their ears so they know which meat is which, and this left a lot of blood in the lorry – quite amusingly.
Next were the sheep – one was in a field far away and refused to be reunited with its loved one and the other was determined to be reunited. Unrequited love at its best.
Once having tracked down and got hold of them both, we began the herding process – this worked fine until one lept up onto my mother and knocked her square on her backside – much to everyone’s amusement.
Following this, they entered the lorry and off we went.
25 mins later, with a lot of blood and poo within the lorry, we arrived at the abattoir.
Stinking of blood and dead things, we were met by a rather grumpy man who said we were late and to get them out. We obliged, whilst watching some pigs trotters and sheep trotters go into a blender – lots of crunch.
The sheep left with a lot of reluctance and the pigs were more interested in the food on the lorry than leaving.
Once they’d been convinced out, with a hop and a skip they were off – with not a wave or a cry.
And that was that – off to their deaths, and our plates, they skipped.
What’s the next chapter in this life of a country bumpkin?