R.I. P. RUDY...In Honor of Thanksgiving

Not cool, Dustin. Not cool! There I was growing an attachment for my sweet, pretty chickens. Named my chickens: Rudy, Dot, Martha, Bonnie, Brie, Alice, and Tammy. Pets, you would say! I knew that we only could have one rooster in the coop since they get a little aggressive and start harassing the little hens, but I didn't think it would come to this...end this way...

Meet, RUDY. Such a pretty rooster. Loved life. Always the first one out of the coop when free-ranging. Always crowing...always. Always happy (so it seemed for a bird brain).

R.I.P. Rudy

A few weeks ago, Dustin alerted me to the sad fact that two of our three "hens" given to us by a friend, turned out to be roosters...and there was a reality that must take place soon. As the hens (we have five) are getting to egg laying age, two roosters is one too many for them. It was time for me to say, "Goodbye." The lot fell to Rudy since he was not only "discovered" to be a rooster second (we had already promised Dot he could stay), but the louder and more aggressive of the two.

My parents were coming in for the weekend! Dustin was itching to take Rudy to the chopping block. I told my dad the situation and how heart broken I was to see my dear Rudy, well, headless. He said, "Well, Jo, sounds like you need to eat him." Ah! And then I told my animal loving mama and she said, "That mean rooster is attacking the ladies?...kill him!!!" What!? Hello...Mom....is that you on the phone? So, since they were for the murdering of my pet Rudy, I told them if I had to eat him, they would too! 

 
 So, Dustin chopped Rudy's poor little head off (not really, but that sounds better than what actually happened) and boiled off his feathers. 

And I helped burn little hairs off his little body, seasoned him, stuffed him full of veggies, and shoved him in the oven! (Maybe I'm a better farmer's wife than I thought!)

Bon Appetite! Dinner is served! 

 A Special Note to Rudy: Dear pet rooster (R.I.P.) you were delicious! Thank you for your purpose in life...to give me joy watching you and Dot have cock fights as I looked in the back yard and to feed my belly! Job well done!

And a note to my Chicken Killing Husband: Darling, if you plan on making me eat my chickens, in the future, please don't have me name them first! I get attached! (Dustin promised me he would obey this rule...and that my puppies and kitties were safe cause he loves them too much...and gross!)