Chicken Farmer’s Responsability: A Good Life, A Good Death.

A little over three and a half years ago we brought home our first day old chicks. We were clueless, but well informed. The boys giggled while they held the two little feather balls in their tiny fingers as I watched close so they wouldn't squeeze them too tight. That was when it started, this sometimes nagging thought that I may very well have to cull my chickens, if they were sick or if a dog left them half dead. I knew it would be my responsibility, and although I could ask The Husband to do it, if I wanted it done just right I needed to do it. That meant confronting my fears.

I noticed Francisca not quite normal a week ago or more, and she kept getting worse. I knew her end was near and I prayed more than I am willing to admit that God would make it His responsibility to take her so that I wouldn't have to. He didn't, and left the responsibility to me. My fear of having to kill something was then reality.This wasn't just any chicken either, she was the chicken that would come when we called her, when the boys would dig she would stand there waiting for worms, if I sat on the grass she would get in my lap and nest on me.

I called Brad's Rancher grandma and she told me how she did it. I was to put one foot on her wings, the other on her feet and then do it. The boys begged to watch, but I didn't want any screaming kids while I had to muster up courage to even think about what I had to do. I finally told them they could watch from the back door-but under no circumstances could they follow me outside.

Francisca had no fight in her when I lay her on the grass. I then realised how labored her breathing was. It was all the confirmation my doubts needed and I put my right foot on her wings ever so gently and my left as cautiously as I could on her feet. Then I swung. We both shared what I believe was the same emotion-gratefulness, for very different reasons. There is no horror story to tell, I stayed on her wings and feet like grandma told me for 3 minutes or  so that her nervous system wouldn't get the best of her lifeless body and that was that.

I had the shivers. Then I went inside and called grandma. She told me she was proud of me and to have a cup of tea. Since her previous advice worked out so well- that is just what I did and tried to not be sad about my favourite chicken.

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