When I decided to learn some the traditional heritage skills I knew that raising my own meat animals would be one of the skills that I would choose to learn. I also knew that if I was going to raise the animals I would also need to learn to dispatch them humanely and process them effectively. I understood that it was part of the skill.
I started with chickens. Since my small “micro-farm” is set up for Bantam sized chickens I bought Bantam chickens. Unfortunately since Bantam sized chickens are so small they are only shipped as “straight run” meaning that they are not sexed previous to shipping which means that I was bound to get some roosters and I could only ‘hope’ for a 50-50 split.
On my first order of 12 the breeder sent me 16 which was my order plus four non-Bantam rooster chicks they had packed in the box for warmth. In the end I had 6 Bantam Cochin roosters and 4 Barred Rock roosters- 10 roosters in all. I kept one of the Cochins who is presently still the leader of the flock, but that meant I still had to dispatch 9 roosters.
I watched several YouTube videos and found one that I thought demonstrated the proper respect for the animal and I invited a couple of friends over who wanted to learn also. I previously built some “killing cones”- metal cones in which the chickens are inserted head first and that confine them until they are dead – which eliminates all the thrashing about that one so often hears about.
I set up the area with a clean table, trash cans, and water hose. I attached the killing cones form the nearby chain link fence, and got the scalding water heated to around 170 degrees. This water is used to loosen the chicken feathers after the chicken is dead to help the feather plucking to go easier.
When all was ready we each got a chicken from the cages where I had separated them the night before and hung them upside down in the cone. We carefully slit their throats as the video had shown and let the animals bleed out. To tell you the truth, the chickens didn’t seem to feel any pain. No, I mean it; they didn’t struggle, thrash or squawk, they just hung in the cones until near their end when their heart stopped then they had a couple of spasms and… that was it.
We removed their heads, dipped them in the hot water and plucked them which is BY FAR the most work intensive part of the process. We then removed their organs and feet, and cut them in the standard pieces and bagged them for the freezer.
Rabbits were a bit different and less work intensive since there were no feathers. I again invited friends over. I set up the area with the same equipment as the chickens minus the killing cones and the hot water, but with the addition of a couple of gambrels- a piece of equipment that hooks through the rabbits Achilles tendon (after death) and hold the rabbit in the correct position for processing. We watched a couple of YouTube videos then began the process of breaking the rabbit’s neck, skinning them, removing the guts and cutting them up for the freezer.
Now, here’s the point, I didn’t “like” any of it! What sane person would “like” to kill and break down animals? But see, it’s not about “liking” it’s about responsibility. It’s about following through with learning the whole skill and not failing at the end. And its about its about sitting down at the dinner, lunch or breakfast table and knowing- absolutely -where your food came from and what’s in it.
Most of us would say that there is nothing morally wrong with eating meat, but most would also agree that they don’t want to have a previous relationship with their food! But this is the homesteader’s choice of lifestyle, to know your food, to know your meat, eggs, cheese, bacon and rutabagas; to know it all. It is the homesteader’s lifestyle choice to raise his food, to know what goes into it, to nurture it and care for it, to cause it no unnecessary discomfort or pain, then to dispatch it with respect and thanksgiving for what it will provide. It is our heritage, our tradition, and though I don’t enjoy the killing aspect of it, I enjoy what it provides for me and my family.
Respects,
Tony