Wednesday, March 20, 2019

Death at the Abattoir :: Slaughtering Pigs Personal Narrative Papers

Death at the AbattoirThe first time Professor Marx menti mavind that we would be given the probability to witness a pig slaughtering, I straight decided that I would do it. I chose the Abattoir because I wanted to be informed about the process. As I walked down the path to the Abattoir I tried not to think about what I was about to witness. by and by passing through the huge metal doors, stepping in the soap irrigate to disinfect the bottom of my shoes, putting on the pig net, the apron, and hard hat, I felt like I was about to walk on to the drudgery floor of a large factory. The board was an obsessive-compulsive persons paradise. Everything was spotless and in top condition. On the ceiling were a serial publication of hustles on rails that connected to hooks, which go the pigs from station to station. Other than an intermixture of carts, a monstrous machine in one corner, four butchers, and an inspector, the room seemed empty.The pigs were kept outside the abattoir in a little compile area. The eldest butcher opened the door, and the first pig hobbled in on its arthritis-crippled legs to the first stage. The pig did not seem to have any thought process what was going on as the butchers attached a chain to one of its hind legs. The pig was hoisted upside down, and the butcher punctured a goggle hole at the bottom of the pigs throat. Blood immediately started gushing out. The pig barely struggled as its waning heart handle out its blood onto the cement floor below. After the pig died, they moved it into a vat of steaming hot water for about ten dollar bill minutes to help loosen the hair from its skin. The carcass was then shifted onto a giant contraption which removes most of the hair from the now lifeless bole of the pig. The machine is a giant metal basket that literally shakes the hair from the pig. As the pig violently rolled over and over, it resembled a hamster whose wheel had not stopped turning after it died. I was tak ing a few steps back to escape the hair that was flying pip the pig, when my finger brushed against burning hot metal. I looked down and truism a small tub of hot water that I subsequent observed the butchers used to sanitize their knives in between slaughters.

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