Years ago, my daughter would spend her summer vacation with my family in Texas. She got attached to a wild piglet that my brother was raising. His name was Bacon. She cried and cried, the next summer, when she found out her bacon came from Bacon. She stopped eating pork after that. I've tried the vegetarian lifestyle, but I've never wholeheartedly embraced it. My oldest brother, who has been an avid hunter all his life, told me recently, that he can no longer kill things. He said, as he nears his mid 70s that he just doesn't feel right about it any longer. Myself, I'm OK with becoming Solent Green, but I don't like killing as much as a spider.
I've been struggling with this lately. I think it's better to slaughter ones roosters oneself, than to assign them to a possibly worst fate with a stranger.