Ever since I bought chickens I've been a poultry proselytizer. Anyone that will sit still long enough will eventually hear me evangelize about fresh eggs and bird poop: two wonderful benefits off chicken ownership.
The problem comes when I start talking about a chicken's third asset: meat.
Why is it so wrenching, so cruel and crazy, that after one of my dear hens stops laying that we might extend their usefulness in a more brothy consistency?
My mother-in-law thinks it's mean, that they're like pets and that when the time comes I won't be able to slaughter them. She might be right, but I see chickens the same way I see horses, cows, goats, sheep, rabbits and all other agricultural animals: When they can't do their farm job anymore, it's time to help them go back to the earth to make room for animals that can.
That's not so bad, is it?