That's right.
We raised a lot of animals for food. My Grandmother always had some laying hens and roosters, I've slaughtered hogs and cattle, etc.
It was nothing personal, just how things were. But none were treated badly. Matter of fact, we went through great pains to make them comfortable and were very well taken care of.
I can even remember that I wasn't allowed to name them anything and if I did call them anything besides hog or heifer or whatever, it had to be named after a plate of food just to keep it in perspective for a young child.
The last hog that I remember slaughtering with my Dad and Uncle was called bacon. The last of my Grandmothers roosters that I remember snapping its' neck and throwing in the hot boiling tub of water in the backyard to get all of the feathers off was called dumplin'.
Funny the things you remember from your childhood, but if you've ever thrown a chicken in a tub of boiling water to remove all of the little fine feathers after you've pulled as many off as you can is a smell that you will take with you all your life. Whew, it really reeked.
But such was life. It wasn't cruel, it wasn't disturbing or traumatic. But we didn't run to the grocery store to the meat department because supper needed to get started. Chicken nuggets don't come from a little square box and hamburger doesn't start out as little long ribbon strands of meat wrapped in cellophane.
I am so grateful for my humble upbringing.
