Chicken Feet

Warning: Graphic chicken action

Mmmm. Dinner!

Some ranch kids end up with a skewed view of life.

Let me explain . . .

Grant was butchering a chicken.

This involves such things as a head and foot-ectomy, removal of several important inner organs, and complete de-feathering.
Our kids had never witnessed this.

I had. (see here)

But, though they had been raised on a ranch, all animals had been sent off site for 'processing'.

This was their first exposure to one of the more graphic of ranch experiences.

I had been a little concerned for their sensibilities.

I needn't have worried.

They were front and center.

And jostling for position.

Grant placed the chosen/unfortunate chicken on the stump and, with one blow, removed the head.

"Oooooh!"

Then he allowed the chicken to go through its death throes.

"Ahhhhh!"

Then the all-important soaking in hot water to loosen the feathers.

"Stinky!"

And the gutting and dismembering.

"Cool!"

Finally, we had, sitting on a plate, what would eventually be our dinner.

The rest of the chicken, the head, viscera and feathers, were gathered together in a sack for disposal.

Then Grant picked up one of the feet.

"Watch this, kids!" he said.

He pulled on a tendon and the foot flexed. Claws closed.

"Wow, Dad, that is the coolest thing ever!"

"Let me try! Let me try!"

They took turns pulling on the exposed tendon.

Squeamish? I think not.

I should point out, here, that we have four strapping sons.

And two gentle, timid daughters.

Not.

Tiana grabbed one of the feet.

"I'm gonna get you!" she hollered at Caitlin.

"Screech!"

And the chase was on.

The two of them spent some time pursuing each other.

Finally, breathless and happy, they relinquished their chicken feet to their impatiently waiting brothers.

Who proceeded to enact act two.

And I had been worried.

Pfffff.

The chicken doesn't fall far from the . . . tree.

So to speak.