For others unaware of it, that essay was written in 1948[1], go read it in full. It starts like this:
"I spent several days and nights in mid-September with an ailing pig and I feel driven to account for this stretch of time, more particularly since the pig died at last, and I lived, and things might easily have gone the other way round and none left to do the accounting."
[1] https://web.archive.org/web/20240227003736/https://www.theat...