Grazing the Corners
This is the morning that I take the 4white chickens to the slaughter house. I am curious but nervous. Someone has to do it. I know that chicken doesn't grow from styrofoam trays in the freezer department of the supermarket at the same time I'm not certain about being part of the process. I suppose I should feel good about it since I will know where my meat comes from and I do know they are happy, or as happy as chickens can be, beause they have a great life. Mike hand picks dandylion leaves for them in the evening and they scratch all day for bugs in the dirt. So as we eat that next chicken cutlet know that there are some very happy, well cared for chickens in this world . We are thankful for their life and their sacrifice. Do the Samoans eat meat?
Mom