Dan wanted me to "help" with the butchering of chicken #3 but I refused. Rebecca on the other hand did watch. While they were in the garage doing the deal I kept hearing Rebecca say, "Owy chicken, owy." Later that day Rebecca said something about chickens and eggs and I reminded her that the chicken was all gone and she pointed to the hatchet that was still by the sink and said sadly, "Yeah, owy chicken."
We all enjoyed the chickens this summer, alive and dead.