Yes... I did the deed. I sent my first small batch (5) of chickens to "Freezer Camp". The roosters in question were becoming very aggressive and bullying the other chickens. One of them was aggressive toward me, as well. I always put the last of the chickens that are roaming around the coop into the coop at dusk so I can close them in where it is safe for the night. When I reached down to pick this one up he flew at my face, feet/claws first, flogged me, and left a 6 inch scratch down one cheek, Thankfully I backed up and turned when he started toward me because he nearly got me in the eye. I have never had one of my roosters attack me like that. I sat and watched the chickens, like I usually do, at dusk, and waited for them to go into the coop. Each time one of the bullies attacked another chicken I marked him with paint so I would know which they were the following morning. Four of the five were white, which I thought was odd considering that there are a number of different breeds. Three of them were Red Star roosters, one was a white wyandotte, and the last one was affectionately called "hell Turken". I had always read that Turkens are really friendly, and the others in my flock are, but not this one. He bullied everyone, despite the fact that he was much smaller than them. The next morning my fiance, Brad, and I rounded up the roos that made the most wanted list and placed them in the recently vacated ferret cage, which became death row. The one that flogged me was first, because I was still pretty upset about him attacking me, and I thought it would be easier for me. I had only culled one other chicken. He had been brilliant and had eaten all but about 6 inches of a 7 foot long feed bag string that he had found laying next to the feed bag (who knew they would do that?!) and wasn't going to make it. It was mercy killing. I admit that, although I cussed and swore that I would enjoy dispatching that... darn... rooster the following night when he had flogged me, I cried and felt terrible when the time actually came. My main issue is that I am afraid that I won't do it right the first time and they will suffer. For this reason I decided that the best way to do it is to completely sever the head. They can't feel pain if the brain is not connected to the pain receptors in the body (I hope) and it is instant death. Brad held them upside down by the feet, which calms them a lot. I assume that it is because the blood rushes to their head and they get a bit whoosy. I prefer to think that they are whoosy, anyway, and would happily give them a drink to calm their nerves if I could. It would make me feel better. Brad insisted that I do the deed, which I understand. This was the intention when I ordered the chicks, and I have a lot left to send to "Freezer Camp", yet. If I don't get it over with now, I will never be able to do it. It was over pretty quickly. I held each one, petted it, and thanked it for giving its life to feed my family before it was dispatched, which may have made it harder to do, but I feel better about it in the end. After the head was severed, and muscle contractions ceased, they were hung upside down over a bucket to drain. Cleaning them was much easier, as they were no longer in pain and I could then stop looking at them as a live animal, but as food... or a cadaver. All of the dissection experience at school helped immensely, the pigeon from avian biology , in particular.The science part of my mind took over and it went from there. I plucked three of the white chickens, as they dress out better because of the feather color not leaving dark marks on the meat. I heated a large pot of water, dunked and swirled the chicken until I couldn't lift it by a wing feather without the feather coming out. This made it very easy to pluck the bird, as the feathers came out by the handful. I have considered going into more detail about cleaning the actual bird, including pictures, but I am still debating whether it would be appropriate to post. That may be a future post. After aging in the fridge for 48 hours, I was very pleased to be able to cook my family a dinner, made almost entirely from food that I grew myself. Chicken, green beans, onions, fresh basil and rosemary, and finally, potatoes and garlic (neither of which I grew.... next year!) all combined in a casserole dish and baked. It was amazing and such a satisfying experience. As much as I hate the culling part of the process, I love every other step, and the end result is worth it. Delicious chicken for my family, with more flavor than factory chicken, higher in Omega 3's, vitamin D, and many other vitamins and nutrients because it was free ranged, it lived a happy healthy life in the sun and grass, and died a quick and as pain free of a death as possible. Anyone can say I am cruel if they feel they need to, but I think that I have made not being a vegetarian as humane as it can possibly get, and for that, I feel wonderful.
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