The Blaine County Journal News-Opinion - We've Got The County Covered

The West, Wild or not, is generally a beef place but not much of a pork place.

Well, I heard once that Irv has some pigs, but I’ve never caught a whiff of them or seen them or heard their squeal.

In areas where the whiff from the barn is called “the smell of money,” pigs are called hogs. Pigs are more often heard of in This Little Pig Went to Market.

There’s even a magazine called Hogs Today, for those who raise hogs in a serious way.

So out West, to hear of a pig slaughtering is rather rare.

As it happens, a pig slaughter is scheduled for eight days from now.

It’s going to be right here, or, rather, after the initial blow the rest of the work is going to be done right here.

Preparations began in the mind of Hubert, the owner here on this hillside acreage.

“It’ll be right here in the shop. Fred said the shop, with rafters for hanging the hog, will be up and ready by then.”

The person going to shoot the pig lives on the next acreage.

Some way to scald the carcass must be found.

As it happens, another neighbor has a plumbing business and actually has a formerly claw-foot tub to lend. It’s footless now.

How easy would it be to haul a full-size porcelain tub out of his yard, hoist it onto a big old pick-up, and move it to this acreage?

Not easy, but when has anyone keen to slaughter a pig worried about easy jobs?

So the formerly claw-foot tub is now out in the yard in full view of the living room, propped up in the fire ring meant mainly for jobs like toasting marshmallows, and with wood already piled under it.

The plan is that before the Day of the Death of Mr. Porker, the floor of the new shop be sealed with something “spendy” to prevent permanent blood stains from marring it.

Or would a new, therefore free of holes, tarp do the job? Hubert’s wife prefers not to have the shop floor become a never-to-be-forgotten memorial of the carnage in view.

Next question: Is a leather-worker lined up to receive the pig’s skin and tan it?

Isn’t that the purpose of taking steps to get the skin off in one piece?

“Oh, no,” says Hubert when asked. “We’re going to eat it.”

“Eat the skin?”

“Yes,” Manny, the brains behind this pork adventure, is Mexican and he knows how to make chicharones. “They’re a snack, like chitterlings.”

“Oh.”

There doesn’t seem to be much else to do than say, “Oh,” except to wait another eight days.