Far as I can figure, Pflug's have been farmers since there was Pflug's. I was in the first generation that did not grow up "on the farm". My father was smart enough having a house full of boys, to always live close to folks who made their living working the land. So my father and grandfather never showed me the fine art of butchering large animals. Good thing for red-neck neighbors who enjoyed having a curious kid around that wanted to learn and do all the nasty work.
So today I past on to my oldest son the working knowledge of killing, cleaning, and processing pigs. I thought he might be a bit uncertain, however, I was wrong. Sam participated in every aspect with the exception of stunning and sticking the pig. He needs a few more years before getting in the pen with a 200 pound pissed off porker with nothing but a large knife and 15' of cord.
Sam couldn't hoist the pig up, however, he did great learning how to "bleed" the meat.
Sam did his best removing some hair off the pig. He told me he wanted to snap some pictures. After about twenty minutes of scraping hair off, Sam comes back to show Quock and I a better way to remove hair off a pig. After he was done, Sam returned the razor to Sarah's shower.
We took a few photos of Sam removing organs but I didn't want to post them due to the chance of PETA picketing my house.
After we were done Sam exclaimed that he loved being home schooled.
Thursday night I'll put the pig on the smoker for a couple of days. Sunday dinner will be a giant hit this week.