Reply #33: My grandmother kept a flock of chickens in the back yard

[Warpy]

and harvested the roosters for the occasional Sunday dinner, so there were always a few around.

My dad's favorite thing on his way home from school was to stop by the pen and try to pee on the roosters. (yeah, teenager from hell)

One day he got just a little too close to the fence and a rooster grabbed his you know what with a foot.

Needless to say, my dad treated them with just a little more respect after that.

As for dispatching the roosters, my grandmother was a wringer. Once the rooster had ceased moving, she'd hang it up on the clothesline by the feet and clip the head off, allowing the blood to drain into the garden.

Plucking isn't the most pleasant activity in the world, but it's not going to ruin your day. Feathers can be washed inside a stitched pillowcase, spread out to dry, and kept for pillow or quilt stuffing.