Slaughterhouse Hide and Seek

My aunt and uncle have a farm, and when the children of my generation were small, there were several head of cattle on the farm (as well as the occasional pig, horse, etc). Now, growing up farm adjacent, eating animals that once had names and personalities is not that big of a deal. It is your reality. You know that meat comes from living things, it isn't made in a factory somewhere. 


The slaughterhouse on the farm was a room below what once was the summer kitchen and was at the time a garage and storage room. Cow carcasses were strung from the rafters to bleed out or age or whatever the point is to hanging a carcass from the rafters. 


The entrance to the slaughterhouse was a rickety wooden staircase from the space above and it was quite dark. This made it the perfect hiding spot when we played hide and seek. If a girl was it, you could just go stand at the bottom of the stairs, they would never even come to the door.


This is one of the best stories I told when I went to college because it trumped so many other childhood stories. Mostly because the mainly suburban kids I went to college with had no frame of reference to even fathom this. I didn't even grow up on the farm directly. I have no stories of birthing cows, I didn't milk anything until college, and that was a goat on another uncle's farm. I don't ride horses, though I have and know how to (it was better to ride Sunny down my uncle's driveway than to have to deal with the goose [seriously!]). To me, it's weird that other people don't know of these things. I've been asked if I've tipped cows. I don't know anyone who actually has. First of all, it is cruel, and second of all, you could be damaging a very expensive animal.