He was a respected cock who fearlessly protected his flock from many imagined enemies and bit countless human legs in his lifetime. For this, he will be remembered forever. Some hens may miss him. Rest in peace, Donald.
Donald's remains were eaten the following day, June 19, 2016.
Donald's killing was done under the guidance of our chicken adviser Mr. Kojima.
Not unexpectedly, as a vegetarian I feel ambiguous about being complicit in a chicken killing. I also know that I will have to be complicit in at least 30 more such killings, because our chickens will only be here as long as they produce enough eggs of sellable quality. That's the harsh reality of animal farming, even the most animal-friendly one. Taking responsibility for the chickens until the very end - killing them ourselves rather than dumping them to a poultry slaughterhouse - has always been part of the plan when we started all this.
The first victim was Donald because of the following reasons:
1. Crowing, LOUD. Crowing from about 3:30 a.m. until late afternoon, day after day, was fine in winter, but not in summer when people start spending their days and nights with their windows open. We reached the conclusion that crowing had to be at least cut by half. When deciding which of the two roosters should go, the aggressive one was a natural choice.
2. Attacking people. Protecting the flock is a rooster's job, I know, but Donald just always got it wrong when assessing who was the ally and who the enemy. It was even simpler than that - everyone was the enemy. I hope his successor, Rooster No. 2 who was just named Justin (any resemblance to the Canadian politician is coincidental), will be smarter and more charismatic than Donald was.
3. Hens' backs are going bald. I didn't know this before, but if roosters were people, they would be diagnosed with sexual addiction. When they feel the urge, they jump violently on a nearby hen and relieve themselves. It's over in a few seconds, but some hens' backs and wings suffer considerable feather loss from being jumped on too much. The more popular the hen, the worse her back looks. Lesson learned: Two straight roosters are too many partners for 29 hens.
None of these reasons would be strong enough on its own, but all of them combined made for a strong case against poor Donald :(
Here's Donald's last journey. Some pictures may be labeled "graphic content" by some people's standards.
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| Donald was not to be given any food 24 hours prior to killing. (He had access to water.) This seems to be a common practice to ensure that intestines are clean when butchering. So Donald spent his last day in the old coop, chatting with hens over the wire net. |
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| Step 1: Catch the rooster. |
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| Step 2: Put rooster in an old rice bag with a hole cut out in the corner. The bag was a substitute for a "killing cone" - a tool we don't have. Pull rooster's head through the hole. |
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| Step 3: Cut the throat with very sharp knife. If done properly, rooster should be unconscious in a few seconds. Let bleed. (This picture was taken before cutting.) |
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| Donald died. |
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| Scalding carcass in hot water. |
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| Defeathering. |
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| Removing the remaining hair and feathers with a gas burner. |
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| Butchering. |
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| How a rooster turned into food. |
Afterword
We didn't invite friends for this 'event'. The reason was that this was the first time for us to take life of a living creature bigger than a mosquito, and we wanted to do it right, that is, quick and painless for the rooster. We wanted to focus on the process, not to be distracted by guests.
If some people had participated, though, I believe they would have had some thoughts about the experience, and those thoughts would be different for each person. I'm curious what those thoughts would have been, but as no one was there, all I can do is to share mine:
Wow, I'm capable of killing a chicken without emotional breakdown.
But I also realized that being a vegetarian, albeit a compromised one, is still the best choice for me.
I felt bad about taking Donald's life, because he obviously wanted to live. From his viewpoint, our unilateral decision was not fair at all. What made me feel a bit better was knowing that Donald lived in what was pretty close to a chicken paradise. He had a whole kingdom to reign, he was never confined to a small cage, he always had plenty of food to satisfy his hunger, unlimited access to hens to satisfy his other appetites, and fairly good access to human legs to bite. He was a happy (and spoiled) rooster. He did not wish to die, that's for sure, but he died quickly and almost painlessly. Millions of chickens killed all over the world every day have far less enjoyable life and face more gruesome death. So I want to believe that what we did was not so cruel.