By Andrew Haupt
We killed and butchered four goats here yesterday. It was not easy, but it was one of the most worthwhile things I’ve been a part of. The process took all day and left me drained and with a feeling of immense gratitude. For the year old Nubian wethers that we harvested. For Aila, who raised the goats and obviously cares about them a great deal, and has offered to help us with the transition to raising goats of our own. For Paul, whose calm resolve and respect for the animals was evident as he prepared us, pulled the trigger, demonstrated each step of the process, and guided us through it. For David, Cathryn, and Jake, who were great partners in learning and experiencing the process. And for Bernie, who was fully supportive of hosting it on our property, despite not wanting to witness it.
The act felt inherently important -- stripped of the abstractions in which most of daily life happens. Something about it seemed to draw me closer to what it means to be human and an understanding of what life is that’s hard to put into words. Some thread you could grab hold of and trace back in a lineage thousands of years old, fixed and not adulterated by modern life. Something happens when the gun pops and smokes and the life drains from the animal, and believe it or not I’m pretty sure it leaves you a better person.
