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"Mobile butchers?"

Is that a thing??

Yes, it is. You might see it promoted as "on-site processing" or "mobile processing." Smaller outfits do it seasonally for hunters who don't want to clean their game or hobby farmers who do household husbandry. Some larger farms who do direct sales or specialized varieties such as heritage breed meats use them as well.

I have a friend who contracts with certain buyers and they have their own preferred processors who come out and work their cattle. I asked her if it was messy and she said they do a good job of cleaning up. She was a neat freak in college, so I'm taking her word on that.
 
Yeah, I knew it was a thing, especially in deer season.

I just wondered if they work on spec -- just driving around looking for something to butcher. :eek:

There's probably a movie idea right there.
 
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Hear about the farmer with a prize-winning pig with three legs?

"A prize-winning pig like that you can't eat just at once."
 
I thought of a couple of things at first: that 1) the butchers were from the Alabama coast, or 2) "mobyle" in the UK pronunciation.
 
When I was a kid, Thanksgiving day was hog killing day. It was cold enough, and everyone was off work.
All the neighbors would bring theirs in, and we'd have 20 people processing pork.
Pop them between the eye, string them upside down in a tree, bleed them*, gut them, scald them, and butcher them into the various cuts of meat. Wrap up the extremely long day canning the meat and making sausage.
I hated Thanksgiving but enjoyed the pork all winter long.

As for the story in question, I hope the pig killers have to pay a hefty settlement. It won't bring back the family's pets, but that's bullcrap.


*The term bled like a stuck pig isn't just a saying.
 
A Chef's Life had an interesting episode about the first day the farmer would slaughter a pig
 
When I was a kid, Thanksgiving day was hog killing day. It was cold enough, and everyone was off work.
All the neighbors would bring theirs in, and we'd have 20 people processing pork.
Pop them between the eye, string them upside down in a tree, bleed them*, gut them, scald them, and butcher them into the various cuts of meat. Wrap up the extremely long day canning the meat and making sausage.
I hated Thanksgiving but enjoyed the pork all winter long.

As for the story in question, I hope the pig killers have to pay a hefty settlement. It won't bring back the family's pets, but that's bullcrap.


*The term bled like a stuck pig isn't just a saying.

“stuck hog” around here.

And “hung like a dog” doesn’t refer to stringing one up.
 
The last time I bled like the proverbial stuck hog was when I fell face first on the floor coming out of the bathroom. Tore a gash above my right eyebrow. Bright crimson drops all over the floor and down my face.
 

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