We coaxed them out of their pen with the promise of some grain…okay, they in fact needed no coaxing. The minute they were free, they ran off in four different directions! The old guy picking up the pigs probably thought we were a couple of rubes as we just watched as our pigs make a run for it. “Just not too bright, these boys,” I imagine him saying to himself.
No time to be sentimental.
They went pretty easily.
They trusted us to the end.
It’s not going to be easy to get past the killing that goes along with farming animals.
I comfort myself with the knowledge that were the shoes on the other feet, the pigs would no doubt send us off for the slaughter. But that’s small consolation.