When the butcher finished sharpening his knives, my 2 cousins helped him untie
the lamb from the tree and lead her to a spot near the pond. As if sensing
danger the lamb stood still, refusing to budge. Unable to push or drag the lamb,
the men tried to carry her. But the lamb, visibly filled with fright, kicked and
struggled. Putting aside his knives, the butcher skillfully subdued the animal
and carried her to the pond. The cousins kept the lamb down by firmly pinning
her limbs. As was the custom the butcher forced open her mouth and poured some
water into it.

The lamb's eyes were filled with terror as she strained and struggled to free
herself. Cautioning my cousins not to release the animal's limbs, the butcher
picked up his sharpest butcher knife and holding back the lamb's struggling
head, began to cut her throat.

Wailing and bleating the lamb struggled to get away. Her eyes, soft and
innocent, now rolled and rolled, full of terror. As the relentless knife cut
deeper the weeping of the lamb became more
and more agonized. The blood spurted out in every direction as her head slowly
sagged. Then soft wool was quickly covered with blood. Her eyes closed, then
opened again, and remained
misty and lifeless. Her limbs no longer had to be held. The butcher continued to
cut the gory throat til her head was severed from her body.
 http://www.postpoems.org/authors/animalpoems
See also:
 http://postpoems.org/authors/animalpoems