My family used to have a boar.
In the past, local boars of local origin in the countryside were actually not suitable for captivity, because their greatest hobby was to fly out of the pigsty. It is indeed "flying", and you don't even mind flying out of the pigsty openly under your nose and walking away, and you just watch it turn around in the pigsty a few times, step back a little, run and then catapult from the pigsty with four hooves in the air, cross the railing of the pen, adjust its attitude slightly in the air, and land firmly on the ground.
It's hard to imagine that its massive body is so flexible.
It will roll its "three-eyelid" eyes and throw you a white eye, and then walk on its own in all directions, at this time I advise you not to try to stop it, otherwise it is easy to roll into the gutter, this is a warning from those who have come by. A pig is a thing that doesn't look good, but it's actually powerful, and you can't do anything about it if you put your mind to it, especially if it's a twelve-year-old boy.
But you can't let it go, because you don't know if it will come back, after all, a breeding boar is a big asset in the family, you can't let your wallet run out on its own, right?
Of course, it is my responsibility to take care of the boar, and the adults have the work of the adults to do, and I just need to cut the pigweed to feed it, so if you go to a small mountain village deep in the Longquan Mountains of Sichuan in that spring, you will always see a twelve-year-old boy with a scythe on his back, carefully following a swaggering boar to cut the pigweed.
It's never a pretty experience.
The best BGM for this scene should be Xu Wei's "Blue Lotus", a free little boar and a depressed teenager.
At that time, it had not yet begun to develop, and the two breathtaking objects under the back crotch had not yet been formed, so the temperament and character were still very naïve, although it was said that it did not like to stay in the pigsty, but it would not be fierce, as long as it flew out of the pigsty, it would become gentle and cute. Pigs, when they were young, were indeed called "clear eyebrows", and our relationship was quite good.
There is a tacit understanding between us.
I treat it as a pet;
It treats me like a little friend.
It flicks its tail and arches everywhere, which is different from dogs, dogs run out to spread joy is running blindly, and pigs are arching wildly. Of course it has its own opinions, I don't interfere with where it goes, it leaves me enough time to mow the hogweed. The family's "Lao Huang" is also free during this time period, as a housekeeping dog, of course Lao Huang does not understand the high-end skill of "herding", it will come back to squat and guard the boar after running crazy for a while, and I don't know what to do with this reckless man. When the boar ran to the horns of the arch, I hurried to cut the pigweed, if the pig ran away, Lao Huang would call, and then I quickly ran over to look at the boar, and continued to cut the pigweed.
Nowadays, children may not be able to call pigs anymore, and the sound of calling pigs is "Lulu, Lulu", and generally obedient pigs will follow you.
It is clear that the little boar is not an obedient guy.
Every time the sun goes down, trouble comes, and this guy starts to play tricks.
You call "Lululu", it looks up at the sky, and it starts to play tricks. What's worse is that Lao Huang, who eats things inside and outside, will also collude with it in an instant, and act in cahoots, running in one direction, and then rolling all over the ground, my head will be big in an instant. Lao Huang is okay, since I had the experience of cheating, I put a rope on it, and if I cheated, I would carry it and leave, and find a tree to tie it. The boar has no choice at all, this guy will never tie the rope and can't get it at all, he can't beat it, he can't pull it by the ear, and he can't get it home until the moon comes out several times.
They both went home and fell asleep, and I had to do my homework!
At this time, you can't say that humans have enslaved them, but these two bastards have enslaved me, and I have to work hard to feed them, clean up and eat them, and when the two uncles are done lying comfortably, I have time to busy my own affairs.
Of course, this situation must not go on forever, I have to find a way.
My back is full of this guy's dinner, and I'm afraid it won't come with me when I have dinner in hand?
At first I lured it with hogweed, and it didn't seem very interested, but then I sprinkled a handful of rice bran in the pigweed, held it in my hand and shook it in front of its nose, and the smell of rice bran immediately hooked the soul of the idiot. Given that our tacit understanding was still there, the lure of food immediately crushed its desire to play tricks, and obediently went home with me, but it would not rush up and gnaw my hand like a hungry tiger.
After solving the problem of going home in the evening, my relationship with the little boar and Lao Huang has become very harmonious and warm, you can always see the back of a person, a dog, and a pig on the mountain road, under the red glow in the sky, in the middle of the cooking smoke wafting along the hillside, in the middle of the drowsy silence in the evening, walk home slowly.
When I got home, I slapped him on the buttocks, and he would go back to the pigsty on his own, and I would close the door of the pigsty, pour the pigweed into it, and sprinkle several handfuls of rice bran as a "seasoning". When he was done, he poured a bucket of swill, and the creature would have a round stomach and fall into the pigsty and snore.
This did not prevent it from flying out of the pigsty the next day.
In its pig's mind, it must have thought that life has always been like this, flying out of the pigsty and leaving, and someone has to carefully serve its old man, take care of food and shelter, and manage the bodyguards. Once I followed it to cut pigweed, it should be about to rain, the cool breeze was particularly pleasant, this guy raised his pig's nose and smelled the moisture in the air, arched the land a few times to arch himself out of a comfortable pit, and planted himself in it to enjoy the cool breeze. I also lost my scythe and sat down beside it, Lao Huang lay on my lap, the cool breeze filled my gown, and the stuffy sweat disappeared without a trace in an instant.
I pinched its pig nose, lifted its head, stared into its cunning eyes, and said word by word
You know what's an idiot
Its eyes were like round obsidian, pitch black, deep and bright, and it looked at me as I wondered, and I pressed it into the pit arched out of itself and kneaded it like a large ball of dough. In fact, such a big boar feels good when rubbed, the belly is soft and soft, the back is hard and hard, and the bristles are thick and hard but not prickly, but a smooth feeling. It was rubbed to the ground by me, its hooves straightened like a balloon, its nostrils humming with extreme satisfaction, and its eyes almost closed.
Apparently this idiot had no idea that he was a complete idiot.
Soon everything changed.
This guy quickly became stronger, his already agile body became more and more flexible, his forelimbs were thick and powerful, the muscles on his shoulders were looming under **, his buttocks were round and firm, his back was slightly arched, and the whole pig looked energetic. Moreover, the two objects in the middle of its back crotch have developed.
Don't think that the little kid doesn't understand anything, in fact, I know what these two objects are made of, and why they look majestic, and this is the purpose of raising them: breeding.
Breeding boars are undoubtedly the happiest of all artificially bred pigs, female breeding pigs need to constantly get pregnant and give birth, ordinary pigs have to be knifed when they are very young, and then half a size is not big again, and become a variety of delicious. Only breeding boars, not only can keep the objects in the middle of their crotch, but also do not need to bear any pregnancy and childbirth pain, and at the same time enjoy endless blessings, and the little sows in ten miles and eight villages are in its bag.
I also understand what the little boar is about to do.
Soon it developed, and its appetite soared, and it was no longer a matter of pigweed and rice bran that could be distributed, but it had to eat sweet potatoes and corn. And it flew over the pigsty more and more often, and just after it was locked in, it flew out again, and ran away with its tail like an electric fan.
The great harmony of life came the following spring.
The sows in the village are starting to go into heat.
That day, I took it for a walk and cut the hogweed as usual, and the old yellow fart followed, and when I passed by a house, this guy suddenly stopped leaving.
Something deep in the genes has awakened.
At first, I didn't know what was going on, and I thought it was playing tricks again, but soon I realized that something was wrong, and the guy raised the pig's head high in front of the family's pigsty, and his mouth was half open, and his head arched up and down, making a "clatter, clatter" sound.
There's a sow there.
Lao Huang was also very puzzled, and it was completely useless to shout at it;I took the pigweed and it didn't even notice it. Eventually, I grabbed the rice bran and stuffed it into its mouth, and it covered me all over the place, and it had a lot of it in its mouth, but it didn't even lick it.
Apparently, it was attracted to the gilts in the pigsty.
In the end, it was the adults who put a rope on it and dragged it back, and the adults liked it, but I was stunned, and this guy was too heavy and light on friends. The boss was reluctant to be pulled back by the adults with a rope, I followed behind depressed, kicking the stones on the road, carrying my little backpack, rhubarb walked in front, walked a few steps and looked back at me, walked a few steps and looked back at me.
Since then, the little boar has lived a life of wives and concubines.
As long as there is a sow in the village in heat, it will be driven over to complete the great harmony of life. I saw it do it with my own eyes, and it began to get excited when it was far away outside the pigsty, and when I opened the pigsty door, this guy took out his skills countless times faster than flying over the pigsty, and went up to do that trick.
Its eyes began to cloud, a dark red thing clouded its eyes, and its eyes no longer swirled, but in a state of straightforwardness, a certain kind of fanaticism was unmistakably vented. This guy still wants to fly in circles, and when he flies out, he never returns, and runs to the place where there is a sow in the village, so he has to use adults to drag it back. The family could no longer tolerate this behavior, first raised the pigsty, and finally simply closed the pigsty in its entirety, and it still took a few steps back as before, and then took off with all four hooves, but hit its head on the railing of the thick wooden nails, and returned with a feather.
Of course, that doesn't stop it at all.
What really prevents it from flying in the circle is actually the gilt, the gilt's estrus is simply one after another, endless, and there is only another old and decrepit boar in the village, and the burden of the whole village's gilt pregnancy is only it can be shouldered.
It doesn't seem to know me anymore.
The way it looked at me was no longer the kind of look it looked at its friends, but it was very indifferent, and I instantly understood the attribute of a tool in its eyes: I was a provider of food and shelter. The red haze in its eyes grew more and more, gradually staining the whole eyeball blood-red, and at first I was really stunned for a few days, like one of your childhood playmates suddenly got married and never got involved with your little things anymore.
But then I was relieved.
I fed him as usual, occasionally driving him to the gilt, and then driving him back to the pigsty when he was done. Occasionally, there will be several days when the gilt is in heat, and the guy will go crazy in the pigsty, turning around in a manic circle, and he doesn't have to pay attention to it, just have the gilt in heat.
I'm still under the same roof, but I'm a stranger.
I drove it to breeding, and when it was finished, the owner of the gilt would give me a hundred dollars, and I would come back with the money, put it in the pigsty, and give the money to my father, which would be my tuition for the next semester. It looks ugly when it is on the sow, lewd, crazy and terrible, these things gradually soak into it, its ** fades the pink halo, the muscles of the front legs are more and more swollen to appear a little deformed, the round butt collapses, the tail root two bones emerge abruptly, the belly is inelastic and drooping, and the face has become wrinkled and full of horizontal meat.
I became more and more disgusted with it, but I had to be indifferent, rural life, you always have to live peacefully with all kinds of things that make you uncomfortable, and gradually become insensitive.
Then I went out to study, left the small mountain village, went to the city, and gradually forgot about it. There's no doubt it's still there, but it's no longer a big deal, it's just a money-making tool. Occasionally, when I saw it, the blood red in its eyes became deeper and darker, and it became more and more ugly, and it began to grow fangs, and it became bloated, drooping, weak, and loose, and I still helped the family with the farm work when I came home, but I no longer did such things as feeding the pigs, but did the heavy physical work of digging the ground, plowing the fields, and threshing the grain.
I'm starting to develop too.
I myself began to become strong and strong, my muscles were surging underneath, dark and shiny, and my hair stood on end. The girls also softened in my eyes, and they twisted their waists so that I couldn't give up. The world outside the small mountain village is complex and wonderful, not only the beautiful girls, but also a lot of colorful things, the flashing neon lights illuminate the streets, and the night is not extinguished, which is different from the night when the small mountain village can't see the five fingers, no more fireflies, no longer see the starry sky, but no sense. The cars on the street were shiny and magnificent, and I looked at the world like a fledgling that had just opened my eyes, and I was at a loss for what to do.
Something was sprung up in my body, jumping and burning.
I tried to pretend to be calm, to pretend that I was confident, to pretend to be self-righteous like a boy of my age, just afraid that others would see me timid.
The little boar, no, now the big boar, faded out of my sight more and more, until one day I found out that it had actually gone crazy.
Its eyes are now as red as Satan depicted in Japanese manga, or something.
This guy is basically a hungry ghost now.,It's completely out of shape.,But it's extraordinarily crazy.,There's no such thing as a cute Q bomb when I was a child.,Looking at it.,It takes a lot of effort to recall that look.。 The ** on its body is dirty and dilapidated, there is no luster at all, the bristles are also beginning to be bald, and the burnt yellow fangs are mixed with all kinds of dirt, and it is listlessly lying in the pigsty mixed with its own feces.
It doesn't fly over the pigsty anymore, and to be honest, it struggles to even jump.
I still occasionally drove it to breed, only at the gilt, the brute burst out of countless sparks like a mass of dead ashes. The crimson eyes were wide open, as if they were about to break free of their sockets, and they still held their heads high and made a smacking sound, and the layers of eyelids drooped down, and the distorted and bloated face looked like a pile of rotten flesh, except for the object in the middle of the back crotch, like a red monster.
When it was done, the mad spirit withdrew from its body, and it fell into that dilapidated state again, and went home listless. Lying in the pigsty at night no longer snoring, but moaning in pain all night long, sounding like the wailing of a tormented soul in the dark night, my bedroom was above the pigsty, and there were many cracks in the floor slabs that had fallen into disrepair, and I could hear it very well.
That wail, like a file, is filing your nerves one by one.
I couldn't sleep, and I remembered that when I was walking with the little boar and Lao Huang on the mountain road, Lao Huang was already dead, and one morning, guarding his most beloved forehead basin, he couldn't wake up. Lao Huang's life is an ordinary life, it is a quiet sound, from a soft and cute puppy to a loyal and honest old dog's life, it left us in sleep, let us miss it.
Only the old boar who was tormented in some kind of pain was left, and I was terrified.
The raised fence on the pigsty of the old boar was removed again, there was no need, it could not fly out at all.
But one morning, for some reason, it flew out again. Theoretically, it did fly out, but it didn't fly out completely, only half of it flew out, and then the back half of it hit the top of the pigsty railing and planted it on the ground outside the pigsty.
Both front legs were broken, and one of the hind legs was broken.
I woke up to hear its wail, and when I ran down to see it, it struggled in the middle of a pile of mud, writhing, trying to get up, and screaming even more in pain. I don't know why it suddenly remembered to fly in circles, maybe it remembered that free afternoon, remembered that I kneaded it like dough, remembered the carefree days everywhere, remembered the years when I had never touched the gilt, remembered Lao Huang, remembered me, remembered the sunset in the red glow, remembered the cool breeze before the rain, remembered the fragrance of rice bran in the pigweed, and remembered the life that never burst out with desire.
Anyway, it tried to fly in circles, but failed, threw itself half to death, and lay on the ground wailing.
This wail is more powerful than filing nerves, more like a saw, sawing your skull.
I was restless and restless, and I watched it grow from a fluffy Q-bomb pig to what it is now, day by day, and all numbness and indifference disappeared. I rushed up to it, its eyes still blood-red and crazy, more of a dying hysteria, and I tried to comfort it as before, and it tilted its head so hard that it almost bit me.
It even bites the veterinarian, and the veterinarian can't do anything about it.
Its fate is doomed, and long pain is better than short pain.
The pig killer has a way, the pig killer in the village has seen everything, as long as it is a pig, there is nothing he can't clean up. He took an extraordinarily long pig-killing knife, sharpened it quickly, tied it to the head of a wooden stick, and stabbed it at a distance of its throat, accurately severing the carotid artery.
The moment the knife was drawn, blood gushed out like a fountain, and the boar was still wailing, but he couldn't make any sound, only some bubbles came out of the fountain.
In a few moments, it was dead.
Its severed front hooves drooped at a strange and distorted angle, the blood-red in its eyes finally faded, revealing an obsidian-like clarity again, its mouth completely relaxed and slightly open, its head pressed tightly against the ground, its body stretched out, and all pain left it. It kneaded it in a position like I kneaded the dough that day, stretched and relaxed.
Dust to dust, dust to dust.
I dug its grave - of course it was impossible to eat it, and the boar's meat was so fishy and so old that I couldn't eat it. I dug a big pit, and then a few people put its body into a "fence cage" made of bamboo for carrying pigs, carried it to the side of the big pit, grabbed the side and turned it over, and its body fell into the pit with a loud noiseBang
It's like a wake-up call.
Later in my life, this loud noise, the alarm bell, has been haunting my mind. Whenever I am attracted to desire, whenever I feel complacent, whenever I try to convince myself of "meaning", this loud bang will sound in time, along with the boar, the soft q-bomb feel, the smooth bristles, and the wail that followed.
So I became a very materialistic person, and I didn't like to find any "meaning" for myself.
There are people like Lao Huang in this world, who are calm and plain and unconsciously confused;
There are also people like old boars, who plunge headlong into some kind of desire or "self-realization", torture in pain for a period of time and then die;
Of course, there are people like me, who don't know what to call and achieve nothing, but they are quite comfortable.
Later, once when I was wandering aimlessly in the steppe of **, I saw a half-grown child, who was a shepherd. It was already evening, and the red glow in the sky began from the snow-capped mountains on the horizon, spread overhead, and spread to the other end of the sky, he was driving the sheep home, and his dog was running back and forth beside him, comfortable, peaceful, and at ease.
I was fascinated by this scene, and I remembered the boy on the mountain road, the little boar, and the old yellow dog.
It occurred to me that I had never even given it a name, the little boar, which I had taken as a companion, and I had forgotten to give it a name. Then it became distorted, weird, ugly, and of course even less so.
The flock has a "leader", and as long as it is controlled, the whole flock will be obedient. Sheep are also greedy animals, they will dig out the roots of the grass and eat them, and they will not want to go home at all, regardless of what happens next year, and they will not go home at all.
So the boy picked up a stone, picked it up with a "sling" made of wool, and smashed it beside the leader, stirring up a large cloud of dust.
The leader was taken aback, turned his head and walked in the direction of home, and the rest of the sheep followed it very docilely, and it raised its head and made a "bleating" cry, like a general commanding thousands of troops, full of ambition and ambition.
It's as if I didn't get hit by that stone just now.
It's a boring thing to do......
Do animals know that they are enslaved by humans?
A lot of people don't know they're enslaved
Desire, success, fulfillment, value, pursuit, everything, like a huge whirlpool, human beings, animals, the whole world, are just meaningless circles in it, entangled in who is enslaved by whom, in essence, it is meaningless.
All living beings are suffering.