My Valentine Chicken

Sgt. Williams (far right) with some of the ladies

So valentines day came, I had the ranch to myself and was preparing for a nice evening with a glass of wine, cleaning my trailer and rocking out to some music. The dogs were playing next to my abode since everyone else was gone. While in the trailer I hear a ruckus outside and realized the chickens had barged inside of the cabin. Unfortunately we have a dog who triggers when chickens get inside of confined areas (he does perfectly fine when they're out in the open!). Needless to say, during the process of getting the chicken out of the cabin our dog got ahold of her. Fortunately, the rest of the process went pretty quick...

It was interesting to watch myself in this process - the whole process. I have kept chickens for four years now and as most chicken farmers know, there's always one death in the family somewhere. While in Missoula, the group I was living with decided to get chickens as an opportunity to be closer to our food - and with living animals, it's too close for comfort sometimes. We got chicks and raised them to be full birds. Three of them were sexed female, but the chick I picked was a wild card. As it so happens mine grew up to be a beautiful bantem, a protective, testosterone filled male. We had thoughts for a while that that might be the case, but assured our ears were when we heard the awkward pubescent craw of a rooster outside our bedroom window one fine summer morning. To clarify the significance of this, we lived in town and roosters are not permitted in city limits (unless on dinner plates!). The household's agreement was that you kill your chicken. And so it was my turn. Although I have the whole process documented, I think the thing I take away from it is the experience itself. At the time, I didn't process the bird - my roommates swept in and went captain anatomy-team on Banshee the Bantem, allowing me the time to process the shattering and overwhelming sensation in me. It was a challenge, and yet, after my adrenaline subsided, I found a great appreciation for the opportunity to be close to the truth of my food. My dinner did not come from a plastic-wrapped package that night.
In subsequent chicken deaths I have de-feathered and gutted birds. This Valentine Frenchie was my first to go through the whole process - alone. It's interesting as humans our capacity to adjust and desensitize to traumatic situations. And I would call death traumatic. But I knew what to do, over my past years of exposure I have created a pocket in my mind, a place built to honor and acknowledge what has happened but also to respond and know what to do. I prepared my materials - put the tea pot on (to help de-feather), found a sharp knife, scissors, trash bag and cutting board. I mentally walked through steps I've seen. And I fully processed my first chicken. I'm not the best butcher around, but I got the job done! Two hours later I transformed the traumatic experience into a bird ready to celebrate with others over a meal.

I have been wrestling with the idea of animals as food for many years now. As a child I was a religious carnivore. On a bet I couldn't eat meat, I accepted the challenge to become a vegetarian, this bet transformed into a lifestyle from the ages thirteen to seventeen. I have wavered between these two extremes ever since. For me, there has been a war waged between morality (thou shall not kill/reduce suffering) and biology, and for so long they have seemed mutually-exclusive circumstances. This came to a head during a week-long bike trip with my partner while I was in a vegetarian phase. We got to day three and my body needed the meat. In the backcountry of Yakk, Montana we found a small restaurant where I had an AMAZINGLY delicious beef burger. I've had many delicious burgers over the course of my life, but this one had me determined to find a balance between 'morality' and meat. Believing that our bodies have intuitive knowledge of what we need that brings us to balance, I have known all along that animal protein is nourishing for my body. But how could it be moral? There are some wonderful books out there that delve into this very topic. Two that I found well-informed and pertinent were Omnivore's Dilemma by Michael Pollen and Eating Animals by Jonathan Foer. Of the many books I read, these two lodged in my memory.

In saying all of this I recognize people's relationships with their food is incredibly personal. I find the conversations I have often bring up strong reactions. But of course they do! Food is pivotal to human interaction, culture, family history and biology. It is a foundation to humanity. I think what I have come to so far is the understanding that there is a middle ground in all of this. That we can be responsible omnivores, reducing overall harm by taking into consideration the environment the food (both animate and non) is raised, the care to which it is processed, how much gas it takes to get it to our front door, and the amount we consume. From looking at many of these issues, I believe we can have our meat, and morality too!! As a sum, I feel very grateful for the opportunity to be close to the pulse of my food and the chance to share it with you. I would be curious to hear your thoughts on the matter! 

Banshee as a Babe (Far Left)

Happy Valentine to you all. May your feet feel connected to this earth, what a blessing this opportunity at life is.