Every time I look at this blog I think about how I need to write a follow up post about the rooster...what to call it..fiasco? tragedy? trauma? learning experience? Although I sounded glib in that old post we felt really bad about the roosters, me especially. I was glad that they were gone since it had been so awful, mainly for the chickens, having them around, but I was not glad that they were dead. I feel sad remembering them. Surprising as this may seem I think of them fairly often. On the positive side the whole experience cleared up my longstanding ambivalence about whether to eat chicken or not. I don't. It's over. Same with fish. Done. Same with consuming dairy products- done with that too. This change has been surprisingly easy, a non-event for the most part- also a relief in this odd way that I never would have expected. It's as if by freeing other beings from being eaten by me I have freed something in myself. It's a nice way to live.
We still have the chickens (five) and I'm at ease with this, at least for now. They seem content, roam pretty freely except at night when we close them up in the coop for their own safety. We have a lot of racoons and coyotes around who'd make quick work of them- it's happened on a couple of occasions when we've relaxed our vigilance. Occasionally I'll eat something made with one of their eggs but if they stopped laying that would be fine with me too. They're pretty and fun to watch, plus they help out by keeping the yard clear of ticks- good for the dogs and good for us.
Interesting how things change, eh? I surprise myself all the time.
