“Hold its head tight,” Gustavo looked confused but dedicated. We had the rooster’s head gripped in both hands pulling firmly. The rooster began to let out worried squeaks, and by the shakes and movements in Aiden’s arms I could see it knew what was coming.
I placed the kukari on its neck. I looked left and right, Gustavo and Aiden looked equally concerned. “Cut slow and hard,” I repeated Sharon’s words in my head. I cut down. The first part was easy and maintaining an equal sawing motion wasn’t too hard. When I reached the spine, and blood starting splattering over my hands I quickly got overwhelmed. I knew, for both the rooster’s sake and my sake that I had to keep cutting.
Until the night before when we had gone frog hunting, I had never killed a live animal other than bugs, and the skewering of the frogs had nothing on the feeling that came with beheading a rooster. As the head dropped, I stared at it in the bucket for a while. I guess I looked visibly flustered enough to warrant concern because multiple people asked if I was okay. But if I’m being totally honest, that rooster was delicious.
The whole experience gave me a lot of perspective about meat in general, and made me a lot more appreciative about the food that I eat and where it comes from.