Taking Off the Pajamas

Warning: Some photos included in this post are graphic, depicting what is involved with harvesting meat rabbits. So if you don't appreciate this kind of thing, don't read this entry.

If you are reading on, don't say I didn't warn you. Be prepared for a soap box lesson at the end.

Today was a typical cold December day, with an unexpected mini-blizzard whirling in to coat the world with a thin layer of icy whiteness. A couple good friends came by to learn the fine art of how to take the pajamas off a rabbit. Really, that's what the French call it. It's not a bad description for how you peel off your cozy fleecy bed garments when you undress a rabbit and make it into meat.

The teenagers had reached roughly adult dimensions, and Big Mama was needing to realize her full potential (versus being a free-loading, kit-eating giant rabbit). So it was into the snow to tackle the finger-numbing work of harvesting meat animals in the winter. To be honest, it's better than in the summer, as there are no flies and no worries about needing to keep things cold to ward off spoilage. And all in all, it went pretty darn quick. I am very much liking the faster dispatch offered by my high-powered BB gun. The addition of dedicated pruning shears really sped up certain parts of dismemberment as well...anyway, for those of you who don't want to know the gritty details, we'll leave it at that. Just to set the scene, here's a couple of pictures of the day:

Dispatching the rabbit

Taking off the Pajamas

K & A learning the ropes

So I know some of you out there reading this blog are going to be thinking, man, Cris has reallllly lost it this time! Why post pictures? Ewww! And you're right, it's a little out there. I mean, we're all supposed to be content with not really knowing what goes into making our dinners, we're all supposed to want to just know the sanitized version of events. So yes, I could have left it as "I took off the rabbit's pajamas". All of you would have had a nice chuckle and thought oh that Cris, what a nut.

Here comes the soap box lesson.

The reality of what happened today, though, is as much a celebration of an animal's life and contribution to this little farm as it is a dramatic, hands-on taking control of life and how you live it. And that kind of event is something that I think needs to be shared, even though it might make people uncomfortable or unhappy to know it happened. When I harvest an animal, it's an affirmation of life. That animal serves a purpose; it wasn't demeaned or abused or forced into a role that it wasn't intended for. It had a happy life, even if it was only three months long, and it's sacrifice will go into the running of this little household machine in a big way. Not only will it become a wonderful meal, hopefully shared with friends and family, but the other animals on this little backyard farmette that eat meat will also get to benefit from the harvest in the form of offal and left-overs. The fur coat that kept it warm and healthy, will eventually be tanned and made into a product (such as mittens or a nice hat) that can be sold for a modest profit, that will go back into keeping this little operation going. Even the parts that can't be used for food or clothing will go back to making this place work, placed under a future tree in the future spring, that will nourish the roots that grow the tree that makes the fruit (that eventually feeds the rabbits in the future).

So yes, I hear you when you say, Cris, this harvesting of bunnies is so...brutal. And I agree, any death is hard. When it is your hands that deal the final blow, that is a hard, hard moment. But that rabbit's life contribution is going a long, long way into the future, and that, my friends, is what I find honorable and true and simply amazing. If only all the animals we consume were treated to such a fine death as the one I helped to deliver today.

I'll get off my soap box now.