It’s nice to share your warm memories of abusing animals.”
Happy to do it. But it wasn’t abuse and they weren’t animals, they were chickens raised for and destined to become Sunday dinner. We did have at least 10 kittens at any given time who, when they saw the cows headed for the barn for the morning milking, would line up for a squirt of fresh milk for their breakfast.
I don’t suppose you want to know how we killed and butchered hogs or beef cattle. Just how life was when you grew up on a farm. If we didn’t grow or raise it we didn’t eat.
“...would line up for a squirt of fresh milk for their breakfast.”
Wait - you’d grab their tits and YANK on them!!!???
Like I tell my kids, sausage is good - you just don’t want to see it made. Same with on a farm. Things aren’t cruel, but they are a lot different from everyday life in the suburbs.
(I bet you didn’t even bother to round up all the cows into the barn when it started to rain!)
My sister and her husband raised a pig named Wilbur. Her children would feed him scraps after supper. Eventually they slaughtered Wilbur and had him butchered, etc. I asked my five year old nephew if he was sad about what happened to Wilbur. His response - “Are you kidding? That was some of the best sausage I ever had”. LOL