|Doing my hair in preparation for the killing.|
|In order to kill a chicken... you have to have a chicken|
|And you have to have a knife.|
|And you have to position the animal just right... was worried about hurting his feet and wings.|
|Trying to balance myself and ensuring that the chicken wasn't in pain. (Talk about denial!!)|
|trying to psych myself up to kill the little chicken. Was so hoping there was an alternative.|
|But there wasn't. Dinner was calling!|
|And so back to business.....|
|And up from business... BREATHE... and prepare... What am I about to do? The poor chicken....|
|And back to business.... And at just about this moment... the chicken made a desperate plea for life... and well, the rest is history..... absolute history.....|
|I surrendered..... Handed off the knife and|
|and while I was running around... Sam took over. I mean, there was chicken to eat.|
|I gave the chicken an empathetic throat grab....|
|while the chicken died.|
|And then I rejoined just in time to....|
|pluck off the feathers....|
|I promise I was careful as I removed all those feathers....|
and not just ONE coca cola.... but a whole bunch!
And that is the story of one little chicken. I can tell you right now that that chicken didn't taste so good that night. I mean... as I chewed, I kept thinking of the chicken that had been VERY much alive hours earlier. And well, maybe next time.... I will be intentional about NOT being present at all during the slaughter of the chicken.
And that is a day in my life.....