Wrapping things up

About a month ago, I got a call from Bob to say that my gun had sold, and I could come down for the money he owed me. He paid me in one hundred dollar bills. It felt funny to have that much cash in my wallet, because of the bigness of it, but also knowing it represented the end of something. I stuck it in the bank right away.

Bob told me that the new owner was a game warden, that the gun had "found a good home."

Meanwhile, the pig is still with us. I'm making pulled pork sandwiches tomorrow, and I still have enough shoulder meat for another meal of carnitas. I have sausages and liver left too. In case you're wondering, yes, we do have a freezer.

Another part of the pig has been in the freezer all this time: his pelt. When I came back home from the hunt, I had all the butchering and sausage-making to do, so I just salted and froze the pelt, with the plan that I would figure out what to do about a tanner later.

Later has arrived. Tomorrow, I am driving to a tannery in San Leandro with the frozen pelt. Most wild boar are solid black, but as you see, mine was dappled, so I want to get it tanned with the fur on.

When I wrote earlier that the pig is still with us, and then proceeded to list the meat that I still have, I was only accounting for one aspect of the pig's impact on me. I need also to mention the following:

• Before my hunt, I was eating only fish, and I had problems with borderline anemia. My iron level has returned to normal thanks to eating the meat that the pig gave me, so the pig has changed my physical self as I have taken him in.
• I feel connected to the pig every time I begin preparing a meal that includes some of the pig in it. I remember holding and handling the pig, and the meal becomes an extension of the promise I made to the pig to take care of and responsibility for him. So the pig has changed my spiritual and emotional self as I have taken him in.

The pig changed and is changing me. I will never be the same. I think that, once we have eaten all the meat that the pig gave us, the tanned pelt will be a wonderful reminder of this most generous creature.

Gun for Sale

Today I contacted Bob over at the Old West Gun Room and asked about how to sell my gun. It means the end to my hunting adventure.

I've been thinking about it for a while. At first, I thought I might try to find someone else who shared my perspective on responsible meat-eating and who might also want to go hunting with me. But, meanwhile, I couldn't help thinking about the fractured arguments that my Hunter Education instructors had used to justify hunting. The role of hunting in wildlife conservation, they said, is the "harvest of surplus animals" (my emphasis). In other words, any animal population that is under management can be allowed to increase in order to create a role for hunting.

It made me wonder if the ranchers who rent out their land for pig hunts are encouraging the pigs so that the pig hunters will be attracted to their ranches. They claim to hate the pigs, but have they created a "hunting surplus?" If so, maybe that's the kind of hunt I went on.

People who have heard about my pig hunting ask me whether or when I'm going to go hunting again. As the months have gone by since that November day when I brought down the pig, it's become clearer to me that I don't want to spend any more time with guns or with hunters.

I had a very deep experience with that pig, and actually, it continues to unfold every time we sit down to a meal made with some of the pig's flesh. I don't regret what I did. I know I was mindful and respectful, but I think when this pig is gone, the most respectful thing for me to do is to find an ethical pork farmer and buy a farm-raised pig from her or him.

So, if you know anyone who wants to buy a nice, well-kept rifle, tell them to see Bob.