In Memoriam

This morning the pigs were slaughtered and sent to the butcher.  I couldn't quite make myself go out and photograph the event, beside the fact that it is was still dark-thirty.  Instead I embroidered some dish towels for Justin - individual portraits of the dear departed.

Justin:  "You don't name animals that you eat."  Therefore, scratching against the post and in repose.

The water spigot has a nipple. The pig needs only to push it to the side for the pour to dribble into its mouth.

The feeder has a lid, a pig lifts it with his nose to eat. Justin has seen the dominant pig in the pen come over to the feeder when another pig is eating, step on the lid to push it down on the feeding pig, and wait until the feeding pig can't stand it and pulls away. Then the dominant pig goes to eat.

I think this pig was smiling at me.