When I was a kid there was a family-run butcher shop at the edge of the neighborhood. On Mondays they’d close the store to slaughter cows and pigs. Because we were their neighbors, they’d let us stand in the back at the doorway to the slaughterhouse and watch the process. Live cow came in, got dispatched (mostly), and taken apart. My buddies and I took it all in with practiced detachment, while eating our Goetze’s Caramel Cremes and drinking our Nehi’s.
When I was a kid there was a family-run butcher shop at the edge of the neighborhood. On Mondays they’d close the store to slaughter cows and pigs. Because we were their neighbors, they’d let us stand in the back at the doorway to the slaughterhouse and watch the process. Live cow came in, got dispatched (mostly), and taken apart. My buddies and I took it all in with practiced detachment, while eating our Goetze’s Caramel Cremes and drinking our Nehi’s.