I was out in the barn trying to finally build the wall to the feed area so I could let my cold wet animals back in the barn when I went to borrow a tool from my neighbors. While over there they asked me if I wanted a dead chicken.
“Um…how long has it been?”
“About ten minutes.”
“We killed her. —- shot her. I can’t do it, but —- is heartless.”
“She went broody again and was driving all the other chickens crazy.”
Ah, so not disease…just insane. As my neighbor put it “Imagine having to go to the bathroom and everytime you went in there someone else was ALWAYS in the stall next to you. EVERYDAY AT THE SAME TIME. Its freakin’ weird and they don’t want to be next to her.” I would like to add, she probably muttered to herself. The weirdo in the bathroom stall next to you…yeah, you too would probably think twice about laying an egg next to her.
Well, despite being in the middle of another project I won’t say no to free food. Especially not when I was about to go to the store and buy a chicken for soup because I might be fighting a cold (but I’m to busy to stop and figure out if I really am, haha!). So why not give it the old college try and clean a chicken that wasn’t slaughtered correctly in
the first place?
I always thought she was a pretty one, too bad she was driving all the other girls away from the nesting boxes and screwing up production. So I got a pot of water on the stove, dragged a 70 lb table that I think was originally used for butchery by myself across the back yard under to my back porch where I could work without getting rained on.
Into the pot she went and 10 minutes later she was plucked
It all went to hell from there. Like, suddenly realizing since they just shot her she didn’t get bleed out…so I finally cut her head off just for a few drops on blood. Going broody often means not eating so she had hardly any muscle left. Yet oddly enough her butt was super fatty. So fatty I had a hard time finding her rectum. She was a literal fat-ass. I got to it without puncturing it and carefully started trying to pull out her innards.
But not carefully enough. I ripped a hole in her rectum an poop started falling out. GROSS.
I managed to squeeze most of it on the ground, but I still had a hold in her guts. Aw, screw being careful. I just shoved my hand in and ripped out everything I could possibly find. Then I decided not to bother with gibblets or anything else…so the pigs got the innards.
Cleaned out, great! Not much meat but i needed a stewing chicken, anyway. There were a few feathers left and according to one website “old timers used to take a rolled up newpaper and singe off the remaining hairs.” Well let me tell you.
That doesn’t work.
The lesson I learned: I can pluck a chicken, but anything else? I fail.