RIP Roosters

Or, as my brother put it "Take that, Black Australorps!" These were the 6 meanest roosters I've ever known, and we've had quite a few. When we noticed that they were regularly terrorizing the smaller hens, we decided their number was up. Last Saturday we butchered all 6 of my black Australorp roosters, who, it turns out, are not "docile and easy to handle," as the chicken catalog claimed. But they are delicious - we ate two of them last night (yes, two. They were scrawny little guys.) Two more went home with friends, and the last two are wrapped in freezer paper waiting for next week's dinner.

Right now there is a huge vat of rooster stock simmering on the stove - my first attempt. I'll let you know how it turns out this winter when we start having soup again.

I've saved all the gruesome pictures of the slaughtering for myself and the select few people I know won't judge me for eating animals that I raised from babyhood. I do have this for you, though: Moses catching the first rooster we butchered. I stayed a close distance away, which is why the picture is a bit hard to make out. He just marched right in there, grabbed one of those mean birds by the tail, and hoisted it up onto his shoulder (a totally unnecessary act of showmanship, but we were impressed nonetheless). Moses has a few battle wounds from the rooster's beak and claws as it literally fought for its life, but he seems pretty proud of them.

So now my kids have experienced the full cycle and know where their food comes from. I like that they have done this and consider themselves "farm boys." What about you - would you ever let your kids butcher a live chicken?