Killing the Fatted/Sacred Calves -- graphic pics

I apologize about the butchering photo for those of you reading this that may be squeemish. However, I believe in documenting such events.

More than a year ago, Project Man and I decided that the boys needed a project. Preferably something that might feasibly earn a few dollars to help them save towards our family missionary fund. My family has a dairy and was willing to sell us a couple of bull calves (now steers) for our project. My dad warned me that this was technically not a money making venture, but more of a "raising boys" technique. He was right. Even though we are selling most of the meat, we are just charging enough to maybe break even. The price of hay and grain has been outrageously high. Even though we do have a small pasture, it didn't offset the hay bill very much.

Feeding the steers has mostly fallen to Todd. The boys have helped a bit, but they still aren't quite strong enough to do it on their own. Since we don't have a dog, the steers have filled that role a little bit. One of them was particularly friendly and loved being petted and nuzzled. He could get kind of rough, but loved Todd. During the winter when Todd would get home at o'dark-thirty, the steers would beller until he came out to feed them. If I went out, big deal. They wanted Todd. Having such friendly steers made it a bit sad on slaughtering day.

If only they had been big enough to butcher last summer when they got into my garden while we were on vacation. I was ready to kill them myself, bare-handed. The jokers destroyed almost everything. The neighbor boy that had been taking care of them for us found them early in the morning, but he felt terrible. Not as terrible as me, but bad nonetheless.

All in all, this raising of steers/boys experience has proved to be worthwhile. My children have learned that it takes a lot of hardwork and concern to care for animals. And that while we may really have liked those calves, their purpose was to help pay for a mission and provide food for the table. Sacred cows, as it were. We were a little concerned about how the children would react to the whole slaughtering event, but decided that this too was part of the learning process. Gratefully the men who came to take care of this part of the project were true professionals and showed the animals and us a great deal of respect and consideration. No one got sick over it, but we didn't watch the whole thing too closely either. The blood and guts were kept to a minimum, and a moment of silence at the breakfast table was observed.

Don't worry about Todd. He went out the night before and played with the "boys" and told them thank you and good-bye. He didn't have to witness the actual sacrifice due to being at work. He left that job for me. Good old Flashlight Girl to the rescue!