At last, the time we have anxiously awaited on the farm for that last 10-12 weeks. The "trip to the park!"
We do raise meat chickens and allow the birds to free-range in pasture (with no caging - just a fenced in field that they often find ways out of). They go into the barn and are locked up each night to prevent them from being a smorgasbord for other critters. And, we often call them the 'boyes' as opposed to the 'girls' (our laying flock).
Due to the numbers (200) and the nature of these critters, they can get a bit annoying by the time they reach this stage. And, even though we encourage foraging, they go through ALOT of feed - and water. So, needless to say, there comes a point where we are quite happy to count down the days until the meat birds take a special trip...to the ... er... park.
Hey, you tell them where they're actually going. Look them straight in the eye (you can only do one at a time). Then tell them, "You are going to be butchered and then eaten." It's so much easier to be evasive and suggest that there is a nice park on the other end of the drive.
Well, actually, T & I don't have any problem telling the birds where they are going. In fact, I was regaling them with tales regarding dinner a couple of nights ago. Baked chicken with green beans and snow peas. Yum. They didn't 'get' it.
It was sort of like theoretical baseball fielding. It wasn't required that they actually 'catch' the reference.