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Ranch kid..5th gen. Ranchers...we eat our friends.
That's really the best way to explain a farm/ranch person. There's a switch point where you are hugging them, scratching on them one day, the next day you lead them into a pen and check out til the work is done. Most folks I know treat them as pets and friends. The feed-lot folks, or finishers, or the slaughter plants guys I don't know how they are? I just know producers.
I'm sure everyone in my world deals with it different. Case in point, the other day I found a three day old calf with it's back broken. I had already got to know the little bugger and then I find him unable to walk. His mom was there nuzzling him, he's trying to get up to nurse and couldn't....ugggh. What I had to do bothered me for a week. Really bothered me. I hate that part of this. I got over it. But it's hard every single time. You just move quickly and take care of stuff as fast and efficient and humane as possible. You don't let yourself think about it at the time. My GF say's I have respect and dignity.
I hunt and fish like crazy. I eat more wild game than what I raise here on the ranch. It's cheaper. Pretty much every warm blooded critter I kill, I feel bad about for a bit. I thank each and every one. I have four freezers...all full of beef and game. I smile and eat and appreciate what I've taken. Wierd.-WW
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