Bang!
Last struggle and the light goes out of his eyes.
They cease to be that animal you saw born,
You named.
Watched it raised by its mother,
Became a mischievous adolescent,
Broke through fences,
And jumped up when you came with feed.
You cared for and petted this animal.
Now it is gone.
Its carcass is in the hanging shed,
Awaiting the butchering.
Unrecognisable.
It is not the same animal,
Running about the paddock just yesterday.
He has gone and he will remain in your memory.
The meat will go to feed your family.
He had a good life on our farm,
He was not sold or transported away.
He did not suffer those fears of the unknown.
He went on no truck to any saleyard or abattoir.
He lived with his family,
He was allowed to frolic and be his goatlike self.
His end was quick.
An eye-blink.
He really had only one bad day.
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