This afternoon, as I was making dinner, Christian came into the kitchen
and announced today was the day we were going to say farewell
to rooster, Dumpling.
We have more roosters than hens, and they are coming of age,
which means they are becoming mean and abusive
to my hens, which I do not tolerate.
This is called culling and is common among chicken parents.
Out the window, I observed Christian pick up Dumpling and stroke
his head while murmuring something.
Later on, I discovered that Christian was actually saying a prayer of gratitude
for Dumpling's existence on Stillestead farm.
Then, I had to divert my gaze from the window as
I couldn't bear to see Dumpling breathe his last.
After butchering and plucking Dumpling in the backyard,
Christian cut him into pieces and stored them for Angus's food in the freezer.
We're going to have to cull three more roosters in the next few weeks
since we've settled on only two roosters in our tribe.
Plus, my friend Jessica gave me 10 of her Cinimmanon Queen
eggs, which are cozily incubating next to me as I type this.
