Jenny never forgot his eyes. She had been about eight years old and it seemed that everyone at home was always too busy for her. Friends were few and far between. Her mother, Karen, was always at work, cleaning, or talking on the phone. Ashley her sister was fourteen and had no time for her eight year-old sister. Aunt Sarah was always away on a business trip and when she was home, she was always minding Nicky, her four year old daughter. Poor Nicky was allergic to everything, including dogs and cats. When you're eight years old, a four year old is only so interesting.

Her mom was always sending Jenny out to the barn to bring their male a treat. Sometimes, she just went out to the barn when she was bored and had nothing else to do. Brad always liked the treats and always seemed happy to see her, whether she brought him something or not.

Brad was locked naked in his pen. He was much larger than any of the women. Muscle hung in sheets on his large frame. His body was angular and hairy, betraying his undeniable link to the bestial. Jenny's small body was rounded and smooth like the other females in her household. In contrast to his size and muscularity, Brad's delicate male parts hung nakedly between his brawny thighs. Once, Jenny had learned that male paraphernalia had been the symbol of male power. A sole male could terrorize a dozen healthy people just by threatening to expose his male parts.

Her mother warned Jenny that he was dangerous, although he looked harmless and inoffensive enough. Jenny had learned about males in school and the horrors of the Patriarchal age. However, he didn't seem that dangerous and the pen was sturdy. Brad had the most beautiful eyes, large, deep brown, and sad.

Despite living in a house with many people, Jenny was often lonely. Ashley, her sister was always locking herself in her room and "i-emming" her friends or listening to CD's. Little Nicky was always napping or taking a bath and going to sleep. Jenny would go out to the barn and talk with Brad. He always listened and never told her to go away, unlike her sister or her mother.

The night before the butcher came, Jenny's mom, Aunt Sarah, and Ashley, cuffed Brad's thick wrists behind his back. In the morning, they hobbled his ankles and covered his mouth with a strip of duct tape.

The butcher arrived just after breakfast. She seemed a nice enough woman, cheerful and patient. Brad hardly struggled when they lowered him to the floor. He just looked up sadly and Jenny swore, he pleaded to her with his large sad dark eyes, beseeching – as if an eight year old girl could do anything in a complicated and difficult world.

She answered him silently, "We need your meat. We have tended you and fed you for almost a year and now we need your meat." That's what her mother had told her and she like hommeburger well enough, but his sad look broke her heart. Wordlessly, she searched herself for some hidden source of power.

Ashley knelt, both knees on his broad back and grasped his thick hair in both hands. Using her leverage, she pulled his head back strongly, exposing his neck to the butcher's razor sharp blade. His sad, dark eyes were fixed, staring at Jenny, beseeching

Jenny couldn't help herself. She darted in and kissed him on the forehead. "I'll protect you," she promised softly but aloud. No one heard her but Brad. He looked up at her, eyes grateful.

"Jenny! Get back. I'm helping and you're not," she sister barked.

"I'll protect you," Jenny promised softly again, ignoring her sister's command. Her concentration did not waver.

"Jenny, be careful!" her mother urged with real concern. "The knife is very sharp and you'll get cut. You'll get blood on your nice new outfit and blood stains!"

Jenny looked quickly to her mother. She didn't want to soil her new outfit. Quickly, she looked back but her focus was shattered.

In the instant, the butcher struck. Skillfully, she opened the large blood vessels in Brad's neck, almost painlessly. His life's blood gushed quickly into Aunt Sarah's pan. With no more than a shudder, life faded rapidly from his body and his sad, dark eyes grew dim. Ashley kept her grip on his hair to keep the wound open so that he might bleed out more quickly. Brad sighed into the duct tape, trembled and died.

For years, Jenny brooded with a child's logic that her moment's inattention had betrayed her promise and allowed Brad to die. However, she spoke of it to no one.

Jenny watched silently as the heavy carcass was hung, gutted, and flayed. His skin was promptly salted for later processing. Jenny felt horribly sorry for her Brad and found his innards icky but fascinating in an icky sort of way.

Aunt Sarah donned her protective glasses and her long apron. She hefted the power saw. Next she readied herself for the messy task of cutting off the jack's head. She took a deep breath and only then noticed Jenny's distress. "Karen, I told you that poor Jenny was too young for this untidy business. You should have insisted that she stay in the house with Nicky and watch TV." The flayed carcass, now headless, lost all resemblance to anything human.

Rapid cooling preserved the quality of the meat. Aunt Sarah halved the carcass. The power saw tore though muscle and bone, bisecting the spine. Next she quartered the carcass and the quarters were hung and allowed to stretch on the bone until rigor mortis and come and gone.

Ashley took his penis to show her friends. She had helped, unlike Jenny, and whenever someone tried to cook a penis in her family, it always came out tough and chewy.

Jenny saw nothing of her Brad in the fore- and hind-quarters hanging in the cooler. She saw nothing of him in the skin soaking in the brine. She retrieved his head from where it had rolled, forgotten, and looked into his blankly staring large, dark and sad eyes. For one brief moment, she thought that he might be staring back and then she put away her childish fantasies and went back into the house to play with her computer