Pulled Pork, With a Side of Braised Tongue

Once upon a time, a (young-ish) girl decided to be a veterinarian.  She thought that she would rather play outside all day than actually make what she was worth, so she decided that she would be a large animal veterinarian.  (Hey, I never said she was a smart girl).  She worked very hard (sometimes) and learned what she needed to know (mostly) to go out into the world and save the animals from themselves (and their owners). 

Not too long after she was set free in the world to do her job, in the depths of winter (and realizing playing outside was not all fun and games) she received (another) late night (alright, middle of the night) call about a pig in labor who needed help delivering her piglets.  Now this was no ordinary pig... she was a champion show pig (i.e: should never, ever, ever, ever, ever have been bred.)  She was long (but not so lean) and by the looks of her belly, plum full of piglets.  The problem with this brand new mama pig was, as I've mentioned before, was built for show (read: walking, oinking meat display), not for mothering.  For as wide as her bum was, (like a proverbial brick house) the pelvis inside was not even wide enough to let the young vet's hand through easily, much less let (big) little piggies out.

The vet lubed and wiggled, sweated and cursed (mostly under her breath, for there were impressionable children there) and managed to get a snare around the stuck little piggy (while it chewed the bejesus out of her fingers).  With the snare in place, she pulled and pulled, with all her might (seems a little big bad wolfish now), but the piglet wouldn't budge.  Never before had a stuck piglet not been able to removed from its mother in this method, so she decided to pull, One. More. Time.  And lo!  Something was giving: the piglet was on its way out into the world! 

All of a sudden, there was a swift release of pressure, and a bang!  The vet felt the air rush from her chest and there were shooting stars all around.  An exclamation from the farmer brought her back to her senses.  She was 4 feet behind where she last remembered being, and their was a goose egg forming on the back of her head. A little girl was staring at her in awe.  In her hands, the snare.  Tangled in in the snare, the head of a piglet. 

Through the haze of a (probably mild) concussion, the vet started to piece things together.  The bang was her head against the cement wall of the farrowing barn, which understandably knocked the wind out of her and caused (temporary) visual impairment.  The farmer's cry was disbelief (and probably a little bit telling his kids not to look.) Above all, one thing stood out... she had literally pulled the head off a living creature with her own brute (stop laughing) strength. 

I wish I could say the story had a happy ending, but facts are facts, and the fact was that a headless pig was totally stuck in the birth canal and nothing else was coming out that hole. A sacrifice C-section resulted in 7 surviving piglets that only actually survived for 2 days (not the her fault.)  But now, when the vet finds herself in a sticky situation (like shoulder deep in a uterus that is full of rotten calf soup while the cow squirts all over her), she reminds herself that if she's strong enough to pull the head off a live piglet, she is strong enough to do anything.  Which sometime means accidentally (really, it was an accident) pulling the tongue out of a dead calf (look, the top of a pluck!) and throwing it at the feet of a shell-shocked intern. 

The direction of the toss was totally just for funsies.