When I made the decision to raise chickens my intent has always been to rotate hens every few years when egg production decreased and to allow then to brood chicks. The males would be processed.
The first batch of 11 chicks contained two cockerels, one intended, one not. The odd man out was a light brahma named Stewie. At 14 weeks he began challenging my bielefelder cockerel, Spatch and was becoming aggressive toward several pullets, caused an eye injury to one. I made the decision to cull him early. I have hunted and field dressed small and big game over many decades, but killing an animal I raised from infancy is quite different. I carried him to ‘the cone tree’ while telling him what a good little rooster he was, thanking him for his sacrifice and that I understood his behavior, his hormones, his role in life. He was indeed a great guardian of the flock but in the grand scheme of things he was meant for the table. The knife found it’s mark. I’d like to say it was a clean one cut kill; it was not. After 15 or so seconds I realized he was opening his eyes, looked at me. So sorry, Stewie. I immediately severed the head and it was done. One shudder and then he was still.
I thanked God for providing me opportunity to give Stewie a good, albeit short, life, and for the opportunity to learn the practice of processing food for my family. I am a better person today than I was yesterday because of this.
Thanks for reading.
The first batch of 11 chicks contained two cockerels, one intended, one not. The odd man out was a light brahma named Stewie. At 14 weeks he began challenging my bielefelder cockerel, Spatch and was becoming aggressive toward several pullets, caused an eye injury to one. I made the decision to cull him early. I have hunted and field dressed small and big game over many decades, but killing an animal I raised from infancy is quite different. I carried him to ‘the cone tree’ while telling him what a good little rooster he was, thanking him for his sacrifice and that I understood his behavior, his hormones, his role in life. He was indeed a great guardian of the flock but in the grand scheme of things he was meant for the table. The knife found it’s mark. I’d like to say it was a clean one cut kill; it was not. After 15 or so seconds I realized he was opening his eyes, looked at me. So sorry, Stewie. I immediately severed the head and it was done. One shudder and then he was still.
I thanked God for providing me opportunity to give Stewie a good, albeit short, life, and for the opportunity to learn the practice of processing food for my family. I am a better person today than I was yesterday because of this.
Thanks for reading.