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Where I grew up (Gaspe. Quebec) we raised pigs in the back yard. We knew exactly what they ate, how they slept, how much shade, sun, water they had, if the dogs were pestering them my Dad would chase them away……In essence they were a part of our family and we cared for them. We were genuinely interested in their welfare…..mostly because we couldn’t watch any creature suffer, but also because on some level we realized that we would be eating these animals someday and we didn’t want to poison ourselves.

Here is where we should have drawn the line.

In the sixth spring of my life, my Dad brought home Jean Guy. He was a strapping beauty of a piglet and he knew it. He was our darling and my sister (The Beav) and I rushed home from school every day to feed him. We would play with him for hours…….he was way more entertaining….and smarter than the dog (Beav actually taught him how to count to seven).

We loved him. He loved food and running around having a great old time. As his eating habits made his pen smaller and smaller……..his restlessness grew into a thirst for freedom. Day and night he devised and executed plans for escape. Jean Guy was like the Kunta Kinte of pigs.

First it was every few weeks then it was a daily experience……..”Jesus Christ” Deano (My Dad) would yell “Jean Guy is loose again!!” and the chase would begin. Interestingly the other pigs wouldn’t leave the pen even after Jean Guy had shown the way out.

Jean Guy loved it. For sure part of breaking out was the excitement of us chasing after him. He especially liked to tear ass after my Uncle Dale. Uncle Dale was scared of pigs and this of course excited Jean Guy to no end, but Uncle Dale still managed to eventually get the job done as a diversionary device.

This brings me to the day of tragedy. A beautiful, warm, early October Saturday morning. I see all my uncles rounding around a large wooden tripod and my curiosity beckons me to dress quickly and see what is afoot. Psychologist friends have told me that I should have blacked this part out of my memory, but I didn’t.

My Dad holding a .22 to Jean Guy’s head. It wasn’t enough. The bullet either skipped off his head, his massive cranium was too large, or his will for life cared not for a small caliber weapon of death. Anyway my Uncle Frankie with two quick strikes of his hunting knife, one to the heart, one across the throat put our Beloved Jean Guy out of pain in seconds.

It was awful.

I don’t remember my Mom (Heather…the most successful hairdresser in town) being around during the massacre of Jean Guy, but she was there to hold me as he was strung up the tripod.

We swore we would never talk to Deano again.

About this time Gaspe first got CTV and the world series was on. The 77′ world series turned out to be a classic. Yankees vs Dodgers.

Deano was now a week into his silent treatment and every night the game came on he would fry up “sow belly”. The belly being Jean Guy’s.
We were horrified and disgusted and I think possibly revolted into Vegetarianism about this point, but Deano would say “Jesus Chris…. it is a pig, it is on earth for us to eat, we need meat or we will die. I told you not to spend so much time with that pig……… get over it.”

It seemed to make sense, but my hurt was still too great to surrender. Though…….Incredulously it smelled absolutely delicious. It was tantalizing and relentless. Deano knew he had me on the hook. “ah Jean Guy, you taste so good…mmmm”.

The announcers quickly converted me into a Yankees fan and after Wille Randolf scored the game winner in the 12th I was on cloud nine. I was ecstatic.

My joy turned to a hatred for God and life itself after Catfish Hunter got shelled in game 2. Maybe the lack of protein for a week had made me as miserable as a vegetarian, maybe it was just the loss of innocense that I could be so let down. No matter the reason…. I was despondent and Deano was there to assuage my grief. I broke down and tried some of Jean Guy’s belly wall.

You would think I would feel guilty eating my best freind, but no. I was not. The sweet/salty partially caramelized (fry on real low heat for at least 45 min) wonder food immediately boosted my spirits. I felt whole again, full of piss and vinegar. During the remainder of the series me and my old man sat up, ate some Jean Guy, talked about what a great pig he was and how he probably tasted so good because he had such a good life. By the time Reggie jackson belted 3 homers in game 6 to win the series I felt like a man.

That was one of the most memorable periods of my childhood and my life. My parents showed me the value of an animal’s life. How to treat it properly, and how to be connected to the food chain. That was the last year Heather would allow us to raise Pigs “oh I can’t go through that again” and I don’t blame her. I am sure if we had of raised pigs again I would have done it differently. I doubt the beav would have ever tried to get a pig to count apples again. Interestingly, the next year and every year after the Sobeys “sow Belly” never tasted nearly as good as Jean Guy. I suspected it had a horrible life and the quality of its flesh reflected it.

So I pose to you a question…..how well do you know the lives…and deaths of the animals you eat?

Are you ready to get connected to the food chain again? I am. We are buying a Piglet for our Crossfit Family to be raised in a hobby farm (Cyndie from my choices group) on the island.

We are going to visit him and send video/photo updates of his progress. He will ingest no hormones, no fattening grain, and will have space to play and roam.

He will be at the School at 2pm on Saturday. If he happens to get out of the cage??? First female to catch him and put him back in wins $500 and a free parking space in front of the school with their name on it. 

The arm wrestling competition to be held at 4pm will sort out $100 and the parking spot for the men. Refreshments on hand.

This not an opportunity to wax prophetically and claim holiness in the comments section about Vegetarianism (f you want to be a Vegetarian, by all means go ahead) or animal cruelty bullshit (The average pig has a horrible life…) This is a fun bonding community event that will teach us all to improve the lives of the animals we eat so we may benefit as well.

Come meet the beautiful Jean Guy jr.

Patty