Market Day

Today was the highlight of the week here in the Gers - a trip to the market at Samatan, world famous for its foie gras. Every week we pledge to get up early and go the the market while there is still a baguette and a lettuce to be had. But every week, it's the same old story - we roll out of bed late and make it to Samatan in time to watch the stall holoders dismantling their stalls, have a coffee and then come home. Oh well.
Actually, today wasn't so bad. We arrived in time to see the livestock market going on in one of the big halls. This is the market for ducks, chickens, geese, rabbits, and pets. All the live kind, rather than the dead ones in the next hall. We thought the 4 year old and the 2 year old might prefer that... (and the 34 year old come to think of it)
It is quite fascinating to watch the French at these events.They are so obviously in their element; chatting and smoking with a couple of chickens dangling from a bit of string or a rabbit tucked under their arm. There was a woman with a goose in a paper sack with just its head and neck sticking out. She had it under her arm and everyone was stroking it like a dog.
I'm still not sure whether these animals are for breeding, or eggs in the case of the birds, or whether they eat them. The French seem so affectionate towards them, I'd hate to think that they just went in the pot when they got home...
But then they have a very healthy attitude towards meat and where it comes from. We are in the heart of the French countryside here, and people keep, kill and eat their own meat. It seems cruel and I'm squeamish about it all, and could no more kill a rabbit than fly to the moon, but I eat meat. So who's the hypocrite..?