"These pigs are happy pigs!"
by Judy Projahn
Most high school students are treated to an entertaining biology class sometime before their graduation. I am certainly no exception. After having semi-successfully completed Biology I, I am presently enrolled in Biology II. Although my adventures therein are many and varied, there is one in particular which I should like to share; the dissection of a fetal pig.
The dissection of a fetal pig is a valuable learning experience in that it teaches internal body structure of a mammal that much resembles man. However, it seems that the learning process often gets entangled in other pastimes. In the words of the teenage vernacular, the dissection of a fetal pig is neat.
In the first place, it is necessary to choose a name for one's pig. It is inconvenient to refer to it as "The Pig" and it makes the whole affair much more friendly. Our pig is named Desdemona, and other specimens in our class are called Jason, Napoleon Blown-apart, Winston, Clementine, Edgar, Henrietta, and Edna, whose owner has since discovered that she is a male.
A girl dissecting anything is a sight to see, but a fetal pig is the worst. I was quite lucky and succeeded in not touching ours for the entire first day. My lab partner is particularly brave and pities the weakness of a coward. Girls can devise clever means of transporting a pig such as hoisting it with strings, shoving it with paper towels and getting someone else to do it.
The main problem is getting the pig in and out of the handy plastic bag in which it came. These plastic bags are cleverly stamped with the slogan "These pigs are happy pigs." I believe that this is an unwarranted assumption. There can be nothing happy about a pig in a plastic bag especially when it is destined for skillful hands like mine.
The dissection of the pig is carefully directed by a trained teacher and a full set of color illustrations. Unfortunately, none of the lovely illustrations even resemble the mess we have made. Finding a particular organ is like something akin to a treasure hunt and brings a true sense of satisfaction as its triumph. An attempt to draw what we see usually ends in disaster and necessitates a return to the colorful illustrations.
Although dissection might seem rather gory to the innocent bystander, it's amazing to see the internal structure of the pig and know that it's somewhat like your own. To use a cliché, it's like seeing you tick. I only hope Desdemona understands the merits of science.