My uncle killed two goats for Christmas dinner, so I had the opportunity to do some dissecting. Since their throats were sliced and their blood was drained, their blood vessels shriveled up so that they are almost indistinguishable from its muscles. It's digestive system was incredible. I had not really understood what the Greater Omentum was, (omentum means "fat" in latin). It is this sort of curtain of adipose tissue that envelopes the GI tract to keep it from getting displaced during peristalsis. I could see the food (chime) in its different stages of digestion until becoming feces.
The pancreas was a disappointment; it got destroyed when the guts were removed from the carcass. The spleen was also an underachiever. Compared with the spleen of the very male cat we dissected in lab, this one was half it's size. The gall bladder has to be carefully removed from the liver, without perforating the sack, so that the liver is edible. If the bile fell on any part of the goat it would render it useless. The stomach was sketchy. I think there were at least two sections. I didn't want to open it since it was rather full.
The lungs were very pink, showing, I think, that he was breathing hard to the last moment.
They are now roasting in a brick oven. It is a completely different experience to see the whole life cycle than just dissecting a dead carcass in a neat lab: to know exactly how the goats body works, what every organ does and how they function together to maintain the goat's homeostasis, what muscles it uses to run away from you, how it raises it's diaphragm to expel air so it can bleat, what course the blood takes in its body until it is rudely interrupted by a knife slicing its jugular veins and its common carotid arteries. It takes a whole new meaning once you have a simmering plate of tasty meat in front of you. That the goat dies so that your own body might be nourished is a reality that we shouldn't be guarded from. The analogy of Jesus being led like a lamb to the slaughter is renewed in my mind. It is easy to forget the raw and bloody portion of the gospel when surrounded by warm Christmas lights and nativity scenes. Don't get me wrong, I love everything beautiful and adorned with Christmas cheer. I think that it is the sacrifice of our Savior that allows us to have all the warmth and goodness that we enjoy this season. But it is that guttural truth that allows us to be more grateful for the blessings we receive, and covering it up or forgetting it through neglect will also reduce the beauty of salvation from death.
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