dear chicken

Dear chicken, I am sorry you had to die so I can eat. I am sorry that modern agricultural methods can be so wasteful and unkind, from your perspective, even more barbaric than the backyard killings that your great great forbears had to face. You did not die in vain, however, you are giving me and Lucy more than a couple of days of gustatory joy. The folks who sold your carcass to me did quite a decent job at the roasting. I paid $10.99 for you. Well, actually, they charged me $11, because I paid in cash. That’s their trick, you see. Every cent counts, doesn’t it?

Why am I speaking to you, anyway? I just felt thusly. Many people don’t think about our food, but I am one of those who do, and I eat with appreciation and some measure of guilt.I often wonder, what if even plants had feelings too? They might, perhaps science just hasn’t caught up yet? After all, it wasn’t too long ago when science thought that animals and even human babies had no feelings. What can we eat at all without guilt? The other day, Lucy saw a mouse again, hiding in the bushes, she wanted to chase, but I said no, and she was a good girl, she obeyed. What if she caught the mouse? Would she eat it? Would she feel guilt? I guess not. But I do, because I read that they don’t treat you very well before you are slaughtered for our benefit. Then again, isn’t death by predator a gory affair anyway?

Back to the less grisly. Well, I am still working through the roast. Lucy gets some of the breast, where it is the least salty. I rinse it before giving the bits to her, I am paranoid about giving her salty food meant for human consumption, but she has such irresistible eyes, even though she doesn’t beg, she is asking ever so politely.

This is what I have been doing so far. I still have a lot left to go. I hope you approve thus far. You have made a poor Aspie scholar struggling with a painful autoimmune condition very happy – sustenance and thrift! Thank you, dear chicken!


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