You too can kill a chicken

Right after we got our chickens the Mister met another San Francisco couple interested in raising poultry and invited them over to see our little operation. We later sold them all our chick equipment and lo and behold, they became urban chicken farmers too, complete with small blond children and a chicken chronicling blog. I like to say we started something (even the Tipsy Baker learned from us!). The Mister likes to say they are on the ride.

Then today, he gets this email:

I hope you are well! Sorry it has been a while since we checked in. Our flock of four chicks have grown into a happy little family. They are almost three months old now. They live outside in their coop and we move them around the yard in a little play pen. Here is a link to a family blog I started (but have neglected for many weeks!): http://philosophersegg.blogspot.com.

I'm writing today because one of our birds, Timmy (E. must have been prescient in her naming of the bird), has started to crow. Turns out he is a very handsome rooster. We could take him back to Half Moon Bay Feed and Fuel and they will turn him into soup. We also thought of you both.

Any chance you are interested in harvesting another bird? It is going to be a bit hard for me, as I'm quite attached to Timmy (he is really quite handsome), but I would rather he ends up in the soup pot of friends, than strangers.

If one chicken killin' experience was enough for you and you'd rather pass, I understand!

Hope you are your family are well! perhaps we can get together and swap chicken stories after the holidays.

Followers of this blog know we've entered this territory before. And while I cannot tell you how happy I am to be the go-to family for backyard chicken slaughtering, and as much as chicken and dumplings would really hit the spot right now, we're just not sure we can do this one.

Our problem is our lack of slaughter buddies (the Mister's friends are not available for throat slitting and feather pulling on such short notice and I need to be out of the house with the twins so they don't witness our gruesome bloodletting). So, wanna help? Like tomorrow? Watch THIS to see if you're man enough and then let me know. The dignity of Timmy's death lies in your hands.

P.S. The Mister wants me to add that he's no expert and that you may absolutely NOT make fun of him if he squeals like a little girl.