Am I a cannibal?

This question has roots in my childhood. We grew up on a little farm. Every spring we got piglets. Every fall they went in the freezer. Cold, hard facts of farm life.

Every spring I told myself I would not fall in love with them. Every year I did. They are so smart and so loving. They were my babies. My friends. Part of my family. I would spend hours with them. Talking with them. Playing with them. Grooming them. (Pigs like to be clean despite stories to the contrary) I would put ribbons on their tails and one time, yes, I even "put pearls before swine". (Matthew 7:6) My mom wasn't very happy I put her pearl necklace on a pig but at least they weren't real pearls and Mary the pig looked absolutely beautiful.

Every fall I would be heartbroken. I would cry for days (I even start to cry just writing this. I know, I can be such a girl sometimes but whatever.) AND I -refused- to eat pork. I just couldn't. The idea made me sick to my stomach. It would have been like eating my own siblings. (Tho sometimes the idea of roasting my evil, middle sister has crossed my mind)

In my very late teens I would start to eat an occasional slice of bacon BUT I made sure it did not come from any farm around that I knew of. Like somehow I could justify it , if it was a pig I didn't know. And now in my 20's I will eat pork at Christmas dinner and on other rare occasions but I actually loathe my own hypocrisy for it.

The other part of this is actual pig DNA. It is surprisingly close to human DNA which is one of the reasons why they can use pig organs in human transplants.(<---Transplant Article) That personally just weirds me right the fuck out.

And after eyeing the pack of sausage in the freezer, it just makes me wonder, Am I a cannibal?

Am I a cannibal?
Am I a cannibal?
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