From
living
to
food
Slaughter of a bovine animal
Foto & Text: Thomas Vonier
I've never seen an animal die before. When I'm offered the chance to be present at a slaughter, I accept, but I have a queasy feeling from the start.
Note: This article describes and shows how a cow is slaughtered. This can be disturbing.
It's been almost a year since I first visited Bina on her farm near Schwäbisch Gmünd. Bina, as everyone calls her, is actually called Sigrid and is a qualified medical doctor. She gave up her career in medicine to concentrate on her family and later on her dream of breeding cattle. It wasn't always easy, but today she is living this dream on the idyllic Öchsenhof farm in the Ostalb region, where she has built up one of the most renowned Wagyu breeds in Germany. In 2012, she laid the foundations for her current breeding programme, which now comprises over 50 purebred Wagyus.
When she raves about her animals, she often talks about her "adopted children on four hooves". She nurtures and cares for each individual animal with dedication and ensures that they can lead a long and species-appropriate life. Quality is her top priority and the sustainability of her work is very important to her. Her aim is to produce meat of the highest quality that is produced with respect for the animals.
Öchsenhof in the Ostalb on my first visit
Bina cares for her animals and refers to them as her "adopted children on four hooves".
In 2012, she laid the foundations for her current breeding programme, which now comprises over 50 purebred Wagyus
Visit to the butcher's shop
That day, we also visited the small butcher's shop where Bina had her first Wagyu cattle slaughtered. The butcher, Mr Schneider, welcomed us with open arms and showed me everything: the small but ultra-modern slaughterhouse, the processing rooms and the workshop where the meat is processed. What immediately struck me was the care and respect with which work is carried out here. Not only were the rooms incredibly clean, but the atmosphere was almost familiar. Mr Schneider took a lot of time to explain every step of the processing to me and also to explain the philosophy behind his work.
This butcher's shop is a prime example of the craftsmanship of a small country butcher's shop. The focus here is not on mass production, but on quality, sustainability and respectful treatment of the animals. The animals are supplied directly from local farms such as Öchsenhof, which avoids long transport routes. This is not only better for animal welfare, but also for the quality of the meat. Each animal is processed individually and the butcher often even knows the stories behind each individual cow. This personal connection makes the difference to the anonymous slaughterhouses of factory farming.
I was impressed by the calmness and professionalism with which Mr Schneider works. He explained to me how important it is that the slaughtering process is stress-free. Stressing the animals not only has a negative effect on the meat, but also contradicts the ethics he upholds as a butcher. Meat is still treated as something special here, and you can feel that.
When I told him that I would like to watch a Wagyu cow being slaughtered, he immediately agreed. There is nothing to hide, he emphasised, because the work here is done with respect. Slaughtering often takes place behind closed doors, somewhere in secret - but in this butcher's shop, transparency is paramount.
"Then just drop by - next time."
I hadn't expected to be able to gain access so easily. On the other hand, I'd been toying with the idea of seeing something like this for a while.
We said goodbye and Bina promised to let me know as soon as a new appointment was available.
The date is fixed
Summer came and went. My phone rang at the beginning of September. It was Bina. The next slaughter date was fixed.
"It's the 'Rainerle''s turn, he's on the hook now."
The bull that was to be slaughtered was called Rainerle (you have to imagine it with a strong Swabian accent). Rainerle lived on the farm for more than five years. He was the first bull to be born there and had a much longer life than his peers on conventional farms.
The slaughter was scheduled for the early morning. I arrived at the farm the evening before. Bina was in the process of manoeuvring the trailer in front of the stables. The bull was to be taken to the butcher in this trailer the next morning.
I look into the stable and have a guilty conscience. I know something that the animal doesn't realise.
Three cattle stand peacefully in the small shelter. One of them will not live to see the next sunrise.
War es richtig was ich hier machte?
I realised that I was coming up with very dramatic lines. I couldn't change it. I was suddenly only thinking in lurid headlines and I felt like a traitor. Was it right what I was doing here? I really didn't know any more.
Bina and the farmer friend who was helping her with the preparations obviously saw the whole thing a little differently. They praised the bull's good constitution and wondered how much meat he would give.
In the neighbouring barn stood a cow with her newborn calf, Rainerle was the father.
During dinner, I had someone explain to me what was going to happen the next morning. I had never been to a slaughter before, and something that felt like stage fright spread through me.
I had no idea whether I could stand it or whether I would still be able to eat meat afterwards. But my mind was made up, I absolutely wanted to expose myself to it. I think it's hypocritical to consume meat but not want to have anything to do with the production process.
What happens during a slaughter
Rainer, the farmer, explained to me how it would work. When we arrive at the slaughterhouse with the trailer, the bull is led into a small stable. From there it goes straight to the slaughterhouse, which is just a few metres away. In the slaughterhouse, the cattle are placed in a lock so that they don't come out. The animal is then stunned with a captive bolt. The animal feels a powerful blow and immediately falls unconscious. The animal is then slaughtered by bleeding out. The animal only dies when the blood has been withdrawn from its brain.
It all sounded very routine. Bina told me that a slaughter was anything but routine for her.
She went ahead at the last appointment and the animal followed her into the slaughterhouse without any problems. After that, however, she quickly left. She didn't want to see the bolt shot.
"I stood outside the door and cried."
My alarm clock rings at 4.30am.
It's still pitch dark outside.
When I get to the stable, Bina is already there preparing to load the bull. She scatters hay on the path from the stable to the trailer and talks to the animal in a calming manner.
Rainerle is suspicious and doesn't want to leave the stable. It takes Bina almost an hour to lure him into the hanger.
After that, everything happens very quickly. The trailer is closed and we make our way to the butcher's, where we are already expected.
We've really messed up the schedule. We were supposed to be there at 6.00 am, but now it's just before 7.00 am. Nevertheless, the atmosphere is calm, almost relaxed.
It works exactly as Rainer explained. A short ramp leads into the stable and from there into the sluice. It's clean and quiet - nothing that could upset the animal.
The gate of the lock is closed from the outside, and I can already hear a metallic click inside, immediately followed by a loud clatter.
The click is the bolt shot, and the rumble comes from the bovine, which instantly collapses unconscious.
The butcher checks the reflexes. It must be absolutely certain that the animal is unconscious. Only then is a painless killing guaranteed. The shot was right.
Slaughter is now carried out by bleeding. The animal's body is hung by one hind leg and the carotid artery is opened. The blood shoots out of the carcass and the animal dies.
The butchers work calmly and routinely, every cut is perfect. The headless body is lowered back down. It has been bled and is balanced onto a trolley for further processing.
The fur is first removed from the chest and belly. Then the butchers pull the body back up by the hind legs to make it easier to work with. While one is still pulling off the fur on the tail, the other opens the abdominal cavity. The intestines swell out. The stomachs are disposed of or utilised for dog food. All other offal is saved and processed.
I am amazed at how clean the offal from the abdominal cavity is. It is neither slimy nor does it smell unpleasant. All the organs are clearly recognisable. What keeps a living creature alive suddenly doesn't seem so complicated.
The final step is to cut up the carcass. The butchers divide the carcass with an axe, and this bone work looks martial.
After just under 50 minutes, it's all over. Two clean sides of beef dangle from the ceiling - every steak shop owner's dream.
The sides of beef are pulled to the back of the slaughter room. The way they are hanging there now, they look almost appetising. It's hard to believe that less than an hour ago it was a Wagyu cow that walked in here.
In the front area, the butchers put up a large privacy screen. Before I can ask, the lights go out. I hear a gasp, then a gate falls into the lock. Again I hear a metallic click, followed by a loud clatter. The next cow is being slaughtered.
Bina and I make our way back to the farm.
The sides of beef remain with the butcher. They must first be authorised by the official veterinarian before they can be further processed. What we take with us is a black tub with the salted hide. The cowhide is taken to be tanned.
It's now daytime outside. The sun is shining and it is still very quiet here this early in the morning.
We drive back in silence. I've taken lots of photos - seen lots of pictures. But I still can't categorise what I've just experienced.
I was there when a life was taken. I have seen how a living being is turned into food.
At the moment, I don't know what it's doing to me. It all happened so quickly and everything was so routine. Cattle are slaughtered all over the world every day. Far too many cattle because we are all crazy about meat. We have lost touch with this food. We repress the fact that an animal had to die for every steak.
I don't want to forget that. I don't want to suppress how meat is produced.
I originally wrote this article for omoxx.com. I was present at two slaughter dates, 'Rainerle' was the first bull to be slaughtered, the photos are mixed. What has changed for me? I still eat meat, but much less than before.
Bina once said to me: "They give me their meat and I give them the best possible life on my farm" I think that's a good deal. The animals have a great life here and Bina loves every single one of her animals.
I would like to thank everyone involved, especially the country butcher's who had absolutely no fear of contact and opened their doors wide for me.
- A thousand thanks! -
More pictures from the photo series can be found here
