There was a hard to ignore story that appeared in the British press this week. It involved a team of Wiltshire fire fighters who rescued 18 piglets (and two grown sows) from a burning barn, only for the grateful owner to serve them up (to the fire-fighters) as pork sausages six months later.
Pictures of the grateful fire fighters barbecuing the sausages – enjoying the ‘fruits of their labour’, as one of them put it, has met with both mirth and the usual British outrage at the injustice of it all.
One has to feel for the piglets in this tale. The owner (Mrs Rivers…can the irony get any better!) defended her act of gratitude by explaining that between the fire and the plate, the piglets had enjoyed six months of ‘outdoor’ living. Furthermore, the end game was that they were always destined to become someone’s bangers.
I guess the lesson here is not to engage in premature celebrations once rescued from the fire. There are also hints of ‘circle of life’ lessons on offer but for the life of me I can’t think of any right now. However, regardless of any life insights to be gleaned from this tale do spare a thought for the piglets that once ran free when next you have bangers and mash (and if you are an inhabitant of the Soggy Island…your ‘mushy peas’!).
Of course the whole sorry saga gives new meaning to the name of the fire-fighting unit that officially has the term, ‘Fire and Rescue’ embedded in their title. Not so much it would seem. At least piglets in Bacon, Indiana (there are actually 11 places called Bacon worldwide – see you have learnt something from this blog) know, fire or no fire, what the end game is!
Bon appetite.