my third post today as i'm recalling some childhood memories. funny how something you see or someone says will spark a memory.
today a friend of mine posted some vintage childhood photos on facebook. one was of her holding a fish she had caught. she was maybe four years old in the photo and had such a sad look on her face. knowing her as an animal lover, i thought she probably was sad as a little girl, knowing that fish was dead. it took me back to when i was about the same age, living on the farm outside of lodi, just down the road from my aunt and uncle.
my uncle raised chickens and i never gave it much thought as to why. i was after all maybe all of four years old. but that day i'd heard my uncle talking, telling how it was time to butcher some chickens. i remember being shocked, but said little. i was always too scared of my uncle nick to say anything at all. i don't think uncle nick was a mean man but he was always gruff and i think took some pleasure in making us think he was.
later that night when i was in my bed i began to think about those poor chickens and wonder how anyone could kill them and why they would want to do such a thing. of course by this time i'm sure i had enjoyed the tasty delight of fried chicken, but my four year old mind wasn't making that connection. food was food and i don't remember at that point ever asking what it was i was eating. my siblings and i ate what we were given. if we didn't we went without. needless to say, the thought of uncle nick killing chickens now had me convinced he was a horrible person.
laying in my bed that night i began thinking about the death of my uncle's chickens and began to cry. eventually my mom came in and asked me why i was crying. "uncle nick's going to kill the chickens!", i cried. i don't recall my mother's words but somehow she explained to me that chickens were food and that was why he raised them. i'm sure i was only partially satisfied with the answers given, but there wasn't much i could do but accept my mother's words and finally go to sleep. that was the day i learned that chickens weren't pets or just fancy, feathery birds. no, they were not. they were food.
