Friday, November 7

I killed a rabbit two days ago. It was a farmed rabbit, male, darkly furred, and very cute. I clubbed it at the base of its head while Shaun, an instructer with Trackers, held it caringly but firmly by the hips. Before we slaughtered the rabbits, Shaun led us through a small Thanksgiving address, making sure everyone present was of one mind in gratitude for the world surrounding us and for the rabbits we were to eat. That bit right there is the most ceremony-like ritual that we do at Trackers. I really appreciate it. We stroked and petted the rabbits before killing them, and as they died. It took me a couple minutes it seemed to work up the courage to move on from taking aim with the club to taking that massive swing. I struck, and I immediately pulled back, pulled my hand to my mouth, almost in surprise or shock at what had just happened. I looked to Shaun to see if that one thump had been enough. Thankfully, it had. The rabbit's eyes were wide as it died. His tongue was sticking out of his mouth, bright red with blood. A small thick puddle of red also formed below his mouth. He kicked a bit, but his spirit left pretty quickly. Shaun felt deep in his chest to make sure his heart had stopped. After my friend 'matt! killed the other rabbit, we skinned and gutted them. Shaun showed me how to gut the one I killed, and then I showed 'matt! and Gabe how to do theirs. We washed the carcases in the stream and then they were made into stew. I ate my portion without spice, so I could really taste the meat. It was a solemn meal for me. I had a bit of trouble falling asleep that night.

I told Stephanie, a fellow student who happens to be vegetarian (and who was not present for the slaughter), as the time drew near for the slaughter, that I didn't want to kill the rabbit,  but I did want to experience killing the rabbit, if that makes any sense. 

I've eaten meat almost all of my life, and this was only the second time I've been present for the death of the animal that would go to feed me, first time that the animal died at my hands. So much of how I live my life leads directly to the death of life far away from me where I never see it directly, and so I never have the opportunity to feel empathy for that life, to feel the effect of my actions or my choices, to act and to choose with full knowledge and intent. Never have I had that opportunity until now. And in the future, I never want to proceed without that opportunity. I am very grateful to that rabbit for giving me its life and I feel blessed to have been moving towards the competency to raise my own domesticated animals and to hunt the wild ones.

Here's 'matt!'s account and take on all this.