Preacher? Are those chicken guts starting to get to you? You are my little Preacher-puppy-wuppy dog, yes you are, Preacher-Puppers.
Unless you tell me differently, Preacher is a little mutt. Preacher has some herding instincts, the kids, cows, toys and chickens all need to be in certain places and he moves stuff around a lot. Luckily he doesn’t chew stuff up, he just moves it. Preacher, where’s my glove? Where’s my boot? Where’s the flower pot? Where’s the ball? Where’s the bailing wire? Where’s the bulb sander? Preacher!!!
He’s a very sweet dog. I’ve learned to put things away when I’m not using them or I’ll have to go hunt for it out in the yard. Sometimes he’ll bring stuff from the barn and put it on my front porch like he’s trying to help decorate. My neighbor, Virginia, has called me numerous times to ask if Preacher has brought something over that she’s missing on her porch, most of the time it’s in my side yard or by my back door.
Who loves the Preacher? I do!
Wanna talk more about butchering chickens? Yes? No? How about we talk about some cute little girls that came out for a few minutes to learn how to clean a chicken? Some of our friends drove out to let their kids experience the slaughter. They have one boy and three girls. Guess who jumped in to help? Yeah, the girls.
That little girl is scraping the lungs out of the back of the chicken.
Little girl finding the tongue in the chicken head.
And this little girl, who came to live in America with her new family just a few months ago took to cleaning that chicken like she knew a thing or two. You can’t tell by the look on her face, but she was really enjoying the job.
She looked at the livers and told me that in Ethiopia they took them and cooked them on an open fire,”Oh, yes, very good. Very, very good” she said. I think next year she needs to come out earlier and show us how she would cook the livers and prepare the chicken.
Those are the parents, looking anywhere but at their children wallowing in chicken guts. I think it was a bit much for them. Does anyone see their son? Where is their boy? Yeah, nowhere to be found. My son, Ike, is playing with chicken feet. I’m so proud.
…to be continued…I know…will it ever end?
Need a Chicken Doctor?
Contact 
Whew, at least not too gory on this one! You know, if you needed some extra cash you could probably advise on a movie set for one of those scary, bloody Halloween movies as it is being made. Shoot, they might even give you a good price for all those nasty chicken parts, too! Wonder if your name would roll with the credits?
They look really good! Lots of good meat! You guys did a good job. I remember it well.
You never forget the smell! Years after butchering chickens as a child I was in Mexico with a group of people. We walked into a market and everyone was holding their noses and saying “What is that smell?”
With a shrug I said “its just chicken blood, they must butcher chickens here.” The horrified looks from the others make me laugh to this day.
I’m glad all went well!!!
The baby will be ok. I once lost a pet pig the same way. Luckily I picked the next pet much better with help from my mom!
We always include our kid when we prepare meat. Our boys can field dress and skin a deer in 20 minutes flat. We really want our kids to know where food comes from. There are so many kids that don’t understand a hamburger used to moo.
Do you see me in that picture? I’m in the corner, wretching into one of your vegetable planter box thingies.
OK. I made it through both posts but I’m ready for humor and recipes. Can’t take much more of this
Those little girls are smart, and cute! Preacher looks like he’s wonderin’ “what the heck is goin’ on here?”
Are you gonna post about how you cooked those yummy organically grown and slaughtered chicken?
Oh dear, the little girl playing with the chicken head…slightly disturbing yet I can’t look away. Is the sheriff still peeping at this point?
Girls are so much tougher then boys. Poor Preacher does look a little sick in that photo. How is Virginia doing? I’m sorta surprised that she wasn’t there helping you. So what is next? I can’t wait – I get to live vicariously thru you.
My husband’s entire family used to do this together for approximately 10 years. In that time, they honed their skills so that what started as a 4 weekend project (100 chickens) evolved to a to a single day’s work. Apparently, I missed the festivites by *this much*. Damn it all…I’m so sorry I wasn’t around.
Ironically, my mother-in-law would take home her part of the booty, only to have the chicken sit in her freezer until the next year when it was chicken killing day. Only then, would she clean out the freezer, throwing year-old frozen chicken into the field behind their house so her nephew could plow it under for the world’s best fertilizer.
God bless you, April. And God bless the good people of Tyson.
These posts have convinced me to come back regularly. One of my first childhood memories is my grandma and aunts slaughtering chickens. I’m sorry your kids aren’t as engrossed as I was (at about 3 years old). And really, I don’t find the pictures gory at all. But I’ve also gutted my share of deer so I’m a bit desensitized!! Keep up the posts, I’m interested!
Oh..we had chickens…one rooster chased my youngest son around the yard all the time..he spurred him when he was 12…he’s 20 now…still has the scars…While we had fried chicken via the spurer (?) my son under his breath commented…”Now spur me peckerhead”…And…yes..that was the roosters name…because..of the beak..HONEST….
I don’t know why I’m enjoying this so much but I really am. You’re definitely curing me of acreage envy though.
I always enjoy your posts. Keep ‘em comin, won’t you?
I’ve only recently found your blog and I can’t seem to stay away.
Hate to admit this but it is true~~~back when my daughter was 5 yo,she washed a whole chicken for me because I hated to touch that dead bird. She stood on a chair at the sink and literally rinsed that fowl for no less than 30 minutes. She pulled out that sack of “innards” and washed them. She was fascinated by all of it and kept asking questions about what each part was. I just knew she was gonna be a surgeon. She did not, however she blessed us with 2 granddaughters and 1 grandson. They all love to handle worms, bugs, etc. They got that from their mama, I know!
My grandmother used to skin the feet and cook them with dumplings. I never ate them, but the dumplings were good! Guess those were frugal times. She cooked the head, too, and my grandfather would crack it with the handle of his knife and eat the brains. They both lived long lives so it didn’t seem to hurt them.
A great idea for future recipes this. Thank you for sharing it. Have you noticed how so many people appear to be cooking again? I wonder if the lack of funds due to the current climate has something to do with it and we all appear to be cooking again! its great!