So the deed is done. No tears. It was time.
We were going to use the cone but my husband brought me a knife and a wood ax

.
I didn’t like the tools we had so the broomstick method was used. It was quick and effective. Was surprised the head did come off. So I know she was gone and the body was running around quite a bit. I looked at my husband and said I know she is dead but this is weird.
Before the culling, I held her in my arms and talked to her. Gimpy, you been a good egg layer…. I thank you for giving us food and laughter. The last few weeks have been hard on you- and we walked through the yard and then my husband I took care of her.
For the tender hearts - don’t read on- after she was gone I wanted to see the anatomy. Her crop was hard and full of grain not sure if that is normal. It was pretty hard.
Gonna have to check on the other girls now- sigh.
I didn’t find any eggs whatsoever inside her and we were pretty thorough. Took the breast meat and part of legs. Cooking for stew. Idk if I will eat it or not.
Just didn’t seem right to just bury her.
Thanks again for all the support.
Gonna say the broomstick was pretty simple.
Big girl boots are outside- gonna have some wine. Being a tough farmer gal has taken its toll.
This is a very sad discussion in a way that many will not understand. This is in addition to how we all feel for the person (BigBlueFrog) who felt saddened for a suffering chicken, and then feeling inadequate to deal with killing it. The real sadness is that it indicates the state of mind that comes from being so long and so far from the farm. By that I mean, there is now a generation that simply has the relationship between humans and live food sources so far removed from what existed for literally thousands of years to be from the viewpoint of someone still from the "farm" as pitiful.
Not that there is any fault implied, not that genuinely caring for one's animals isn't to be admired, and not that there is really anything that can be done about it.
Example: It's Sunday and family is gathering at Grandma's for dinner. She chooses to prepare, and serve her highly praised fried chicken with the turnip greens and corn-on-the-cob that everyone loves. As soon as she gets home from church she goes out to the chicken yard grabs a fat broiler by the neck, and as deftly as she and all the generations before her did, wrings its neck and while the bird is expiring grabs another until she has the makings of the dinner that is only an hour away.
Imagine showing this person, perhaps an hour or two later in the afternoon, this thread. Can you see in your mind's eye the expression of almost disgust on her face? She will probably feel sorry for and understand the "city girl's" position as she is, after all, a grandma. But, like this writer, she will also probably feel the loss of when life was simpler, the methods of food procurement, and the right relationship between human and animals was considered normal.
We've lost so much.
(The lamentations of a very, very old person who rejoices in having lived when America was great.)