Jack, Way back when, when I was a lad, my Grandmother kept chickens and we had fried chicken often. She had quite a way about killing them and I was amazed how quickly she could swoop one up and twist its neck off before the chicken knew what was happening. Her daughter(my aunt) had a boyfriend that gave her a Rooster and she named it Johnnie, after her boyfriend. She was really proud of that Rooster. Well, he eventually grew up and took over the chicken yard. Everytime my Grandmother would step foot in the pen he would jump her with feathers flying. One day he scratched her and without thinking, she grabbed him and in a fast second, he was beheaded. As we were eating fried chicken that night, as my aunt had a mouthfull of chicken, my Grandmother told her what bird she was eating. Well, you can imagine how the rest of that fried chicken dinner went.
James |
