¡No Pollo!

This is a story that just never seems to end.  Let me explain...

Back many years ago, when I was about 13 or 14, my parents decided to get chickens.  Yes, we lived in the "country", but not on a farm.  I'd never owned livestock before.  I was unskilled how to make the distinction between "pet" and "food".  This is where we run into a problem.

When we first got these chickens, they were chicks.  They were little, they were yellow, they were fuzzy.  Possibly the most important part...they peeped.  I was hooked.

It's been a while since "ChickenGate" went down, so I'll remember this the best I can.  It was several months of feeding and tending to chicks.  Who somehow, quickly, turned into white hens.  But I LOVED the white hens!!  And I played with them.  And fed them.  I even picked them up and carried them around. 

Meanwhile, as I sit back and think, I'm sure my mother was inside washing dishes and looking out at me, thinking: "You know, we should really tell her we're going to make her kill those chickens and eat them."  And then she just went back to washing dishes...
I cannot remember ever being told the chickens were going into the frying pan, but then again I'm not sure I would have believed it anyway...

One day came and it was TIME.  I'm not really sure how it went down, but my mom had a knife and some chickens lost their noggins.  I remember being tasked with scalding and removing the feathers.  It was not awesome.  In fact, it was downright horrid.  That was seared into my memory.

For many meals after that, chicken was on the menu.  From that day on, "chicken on the bone" is just something I cannot do.

Fast forward to present day...

My brother, Tom, has chickens.  They are running around his yard.  He's gonna throw 'em in the smoker and eat 'em.  My kid, Gabe, wants to see how this all goes down.  On one hand this is a great biology experiment for him...my brother is a Naturalist and I know he will approach it that way.  For that I am thrilled.  On the other hand, I'm sitting here almost gagging.


Fast forward again...

Gabe has help put the "laughter" in "slaughter"!  Ok, no not really...but he did have a good time helping out with the chickens.  He said it was kinda gross, but mostly it was cool.  He has been teasing me about it for days now, getting in my face with his arms flapping at his hips, saying "BOK BOK BOK!!"  I'd slap him if it didn't make me laugh.

So, Gabe had a great experience and it turns out it wasn't any different than hunting.  He knows where his food comes from...that in itself is valuable knowledge for a kiddo. 

Oh...and there are more chickens clucking around up at Tom's place..."here chicky chicky chicky..."