I have chickens, raised from day old chicks. I view them as loving breakfast producers now. I love them, they all have names and I'm constantly protecting them from predators, mainly the damn federally protected hawks. My chickens are literally spoiled rotten and I spend a lot of time, too much really, tending to them. They eat all of ou…
I have chickens, raised from day old chicks. I view them as loving breakfast producers now. I love them, they all have names and I'm constantly protecting them from predators, mainly the damn federally protected hawks. My chickens are literally spoiled rotten and I spend a lot of time, too much really, tending to them. They eat all of our leftovers and I get the "imperfect" fruit and veggies boxes from our grocery store. I hate to cook, but spend an inordinate amount of time slicing, dicing and shredding this produce into bite sized pieces. The extra gets frozen in single layers, then bagged so distribution later will be easier pouring the pieces out like cereal rather than one big frozen glob. BUT, I know that if push comes to shove, they could possibly/will probably become dinner one day. This would indeed make me very sad but knowing they lived their best life and ate a good diet would help. There's a disconnect that I HAD to put in place in my mind before I even got them. I read a book called "One Second After" about an EMP hitting earth, where the people traded their pets (dogs) for food as they couldn't eat their own. I want(ed) a cow, but my husband knows and I know I'd become too attached. I would literally starve to death before I ate my dogs, they are like my children.
I have chickens, raised from day old chicks. I view them as loving breakfast producers now. I love them, they all have names and I'm constantly protecting them from predators, mainly the damn federally protected hawks. My chickens are literally spoiled rotten and I spend a lot of time, too much really, tending to them. They eat all of our leftovers and I get the "imperfect" fruit and veggies boxes from our grocery store. I hate to cook, but spend an inordinate amount of time slicing, dicing and shredding this produce into bite sized pieces. The extra gets frozen in single layers, then bagged so distribution later will be easier pouring the pieces out like cereal rather than one big frozen glob. BUT, I know that if push comes to shove, they could possibly/will probably become dinner one day. This would indeed make me very sad but knowing they lived their best life and ate a good diet would help. There's a disconnect that I HAD to put in place in my mind before I even got them. I read a book called "One Second After" about an EMP hitting earth, where the people traded their pets (dogs) for food as they couldn't eat their own. I want(ed) a cow, but my husband knows and I know I'd become too attached. I would literally starve to death before I ate my dogs, they are like my children.