In this essay, White
recounts the events leading up to the death of his pig. He begins his account
by stating, “the pig died at last, and I lived.” By putting this bit of
information early on, E.B. White gives away the ending. He moves on to compare
the act of raising a pig to that of a play. According to White, raising a pig
is a clearly written script that one must follow, but if “one of the actors
goes up on his lines” “the play would never regain its balance.” In this case,
the play has been completely turned upside-down. It is at this point that White
decides to return to the beginning of his story. The author first notices a
change in his pig’s behavior when it does not appear for its evening meal.
White must then assume that there is something significantly wrong with his pig
and immediately phones a fellow farmer, Mr. Dameron. Dameron calls upon another
friend and they suggest that White give his pig two ounces of castor oil and an
injection of soapy water. They are assuming that the pig just has a case of
constipation. White proceeds to the pig’s barn with is son and follows Dameron
and Henry’s advice. It is at this point he notices a series of small dark spots
on the pig’s back. White leaves the pig and goes out to dinner (an activity he
claims is “deliberately arranged to coincide with pig failure or some other
failure”). Upon his return home he checks on the animal only to find no sign of
success with the oil. The next day, White, once again, attempts to feed the
beast with no victory. The author finally calls a veterinarian, which, upon
hearing of the pig’s spots, assumes the pig to have erysipelas, a disease that
can quickly spread to humans. White fears for himself, but the vet sends a
colleague over to run tests on the pig, allowing White to rest easy. McFarland
refutes the theory of erysipelas after performing his tests. White then reveals
to the reader that the pig died twenty-four, “or it might have been
forty-eight”, hours later. White finds the pig dead late Friday night, and
awakes Saturday morning to Lennie digging a grave for the creature. In
conclusion, White notices a worm and an apple while observing the pig’s grave
and comments on the directness of an animal’s burial.
When I was
eleven years old, I had to say goodbye to my first pet. His name was Jake and
he was a black Labrador retriever. My family had owned him since before I was
born, but in his old age, Jake had developed cataracts in his eyes and began to
have seizures. Losing my dog was the first real experience I had to face with
death and it was a rough one. I remember, my mother picking me up from the bus
stop and waiting to drive the rest of the way home to explain to my brother and
I that she had found Jake in the woods earlier that afternoon. Although Jake
wasn’t a pig being raised for the slaughter, watching him suffer up until the
moment of his death was a very difficult and eye-opening incident for the young
me.
In contrast to
some of his other writings, E.B. White manages to stay much more “on-track”
with this account. I would like to know if this story meant more to him or less
to him, because he didn’t spend quite as much time dissecting the events as he
did giving the facts. I would also inquire if he felt any sorrow towards losing
the pig; and whether this sorrow was for the loss of money that must have
incurred due to the pig’s death or at the loss of a “pet” or friend.
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