Chicken Massacre

One of the awesome blessings with my current job is that on many Fridays, I get to work from home. I still typically get up around the same time as I do other weekday mornings but instead of getting dressed and leaving at 8:15, I simply lounge in my pjs and watch The Today Show for a little bit, then get down to work whilst sitting on my couch (still in my pjs, natch).

Today began the same as any other work-from-home Friday. Since it was nice out, I left the back door open so the dogs could go in and out of the house as they wished (for a little bit of a reference point, my roommate has two 90-pound dogs. They often can't make up their minds about whether they want to be indoors or out, so leaving the door open and giving them the option is the optimal way to handle their needs). It was a peaceful morning. I worked on a blog for the Mission: St. Louis website and drank coffee. I could hear the traffic go by on Grand, the faint train whistle, and the subtle squawk of the chickens next door.

Yes, the chickens next door.

Bruno

As I sat there quietly typing away, I came to the realization that over a period of several minutes, the normal chicken noises had changed into not-normal chicken noises. Now I know that Bruno, our big black dog, has a history of killing livestock. I rushed to the open back door and saw that, sure enough, Bruno was in the middle of the backyard with his face shoved into a mass of chicken carcass, feathers going everywhere. I made a loud exclamation of "OH MY GOSH" or "EWW GROSS" or "AUGHGHGH" or something like that and slammed the door shut so that no dog could drag any chicken bits into the house.

Cooper

A short while later I was upstairs when through the window I saw another chicken hanging out in our yard. There is a four-foot fence between our yard and the neighbor's, so I am not sure how these chickens got over the fence. This is the first time while I've been living here that Bruno has killed chickens, so while I'm sure that the chickens can fly over the fence if they want to, they don't often do that. I wonder what got into them today that they wanted to go traveling. So I saw this chicken and I thought, "Dude, chicken, you're gonna die." I didn't see the little guy get killed, but I am certain that Bruno took him out.

A few hours went by. I got around to taking a shower and finally felt like I could stomach some lunch (seeing chickens being killed doesn't really arouse my appetite). At about 2pm, I saw ANOTHER chicken that had gotten into our yard. Bruno was already in sight, stalking the crap outta that chicken. But this time I couldn't look away. I just couldn't. I had to watch as Bruno chomped down on the chicken. I could not stop watching as he casually pushed the chicken's body down with a large paw and broke the chicken's neck with his massive jaws. I managed to wrench my eyes away only when I saw the flesh start tearing.

*shudder* UGH. I am traumatized. I do not live on a farm. I live in a city. Unless I am going on a field trip to a farm or am watching Animal Planet, I am never mentally prepared to experience animals eating other animals, especially dogs that I live with eating live chickens! BLECH!

However, I will say that dogs do a good job of cleaning up after they eat. All that is left are three piles of feathers. No blood, no bones, just feathers. And two very full dogs.

This is the amount of feathers that come from one chicken.

My next blog: I'm contemplating going vegetarian again.