Well, we are butchering our first bird. The whole reason I got Cornish crosses was so that we could have some practice for when we had to butcher a turkey, but that wasn't God's plan on this one. Our poor jake suffered a leg injury which has been compounded by straining himself too quickly and finally by horrible swelling. We have tried everything else we could think of to help him, but he was passing out in his water dish and aspirating it, his appetite has suffered due to pain and trouble breathing, and we just couldn't bear to have him in so much pain indefinitely. Initially, the plan was that I could help set up, and my husband would 'do the deed', but he wound up needing me to hold our jake's head down so he could get a cleaner shot. And I bawled like a baby. We've both invested so much in this bird, trying to get him back on his feet, giving him treats and pets, keeping him cool and supplied with aspirin, wiping his bottom.
His hens are going crazy. They bombarded my house and refused to leave while we were gearing up for the deed. Walked out the front door and around the house, ate some ornamental strawberries and ransacked some cherry tomato plants, still refused to go back to our backyard, so I had to pick them and take them (oo, how Vermithrax HATES being picked up, too). They seemed really worried, like they were looking for him. We had him in the garage.
I really ought to be hungry, but I just can't work up an appetite.
