Alouette, gentille alouette, Alouette, je te plumerai.

I have a solution to the growing obesity epidemic.  Provide people with means to acquire and house food animals,  then provide instruction and guidance to kill and eat their own meat.  If someone really likes McChicken sandwiches or KFC, it might be worthwhile to grow, kill, prepare and eat your own chicken to really appreciate what's on the plate in front of you.

I am not being facetious.

Warning: details about 'processing' animals after the jump.
This is my third time killing animals intended for consumption and I can tell you that after raising the bird, slitting it's throat, draining blood, cutting it's head off, plucking and eviscerating it, chicken is one of the last things I want to eat tonight.  In fact, just the lingering odor of guts on my hands is enough to turn me off.

Naturally, because I'm obese and raising some of my own food, processing animals is something I've been pondering for a few weeks now.  Where is that line between "living creature that I feed and pet" and "supper", and when does the transition from animal to food happen?

While I enjoy a chicken sandwich or some fried chicken just as much as the next person, killing my own chickens for consumption has been a meditative task for me. Although I'm beginning to relax during the process (Kookum took a photo during my first chicken, and the tension in my face is palpable) , it's something I do not take lightly.

There are more thoughts tumbling about, but I've not yet been able to put them into words... Perhaps once the circle is complete (first chicken supper) there will be more words.

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