How you begin is who you are. Only a killer can do it alone; for others, whether you slice, chop or do field surgery, have someone reliable hold the bird by the wings at the shoulders. Grip your very sharp knife or hatchet firmly in your preferred hand and with the other tease the bird’s head forward until its neck is taut against the stump or in the air and swing the blade without thinking and as if there were no bird, quickly up with the knife to sever in one clean cut or swiftly down with the hatchet to cleave through to the block. Yes, they are all watching to see how you choose. The butcher says, I do not kill, I butcher; the customer kills. Those with practice may introduce the knife through the open beak to the back of the throat. The bird will not invite this method, but it will understand. Plunge the blade directly into the brain and do not miss unless you wish to lose a vicious argument. Picture the family gathered at the table. By the feet then hang the bird to drain and consider pillows; will you want the feathers and down, they will need to be dried on paper indoors in thin layers. If so, be careful of the blood. Feel for the wishbone just below the flesh, starting at the shoulder joints, and trace the thin arcs to the sternum, then follow the path with your paring knife, pull it free and make your Christmas wish. Accept no advice except from the bird and your own finger tips. The sloppier the job, the more you are learning; the roasting will cover your errors. Wear the bone on a string for a year and do a better job next time.
Copyright December 23, 2007 David Hodges
6 comments
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December 24, 2007 at 3:28 pm
briseis
Disturbing. No happy Christmas here! But very well written.
Yeah, sorry, Briseis. It’s pretty icy. For something more inspiring, have another look at last year’s A Christmas Sort of Story.
–David
December 25, 2007 at 10:40 am
whypaisley
it sounds so cruel and inhumane, but the way you describe it is 100 times more humanely portrayed than the way in which it is usually carried out…
gruesome truth….
Still, I maybe should have saved it for another day. Thank you, whypaisley.
–David
December 26, 2007 at 9:52 pm
Mr. Grudge
Hi David,
So true and necessary, Christmas dinner complete with a turkey requires that it be dead. Something tells me that you’ve either done this or seen it done. Either way, your writing is perfection, telling it like it is. I have a friend who went turkey hunting with a shotgun, used buckshot that was too light, and when he clipped the turkey and caught up to it, the angry bird shredded his down coat with its claws when he held it by the neck. I always enjoy your Very Short Novels. Happy New Year! -Mike.
Thanks, Mike. I love a story where the animal wins the fight.
–David
December 27, 2007 at 5:58 pm
Bobby Goat GRUFF!
I thought as I started reading this that it would remind me of the unpleasantness of killing fish. I never liked the feeling of fish twitching after bonking their heads. I read on expecting to recoil from the words but knowing it was going to be short thought I might persevere out of sheer morbid curiosity. I did feel pangs of discomfort at the idea of holding the wings but the slicing struck me as easy to do. I wonder. Is this simply because I’ve never done it or is it easier than one might think? Is that why the guillotine became popular?
Morbid curiosity, indeed! Thanks, Bobby.
–David
December 28, 2007 at 10:42 pm
Teresa
Ow. Mothergoose has been subjected to many goose killing stories of late. Most notably from the old Polish nun who gave me her recipe for blood soup: slit the throat, drain the blood into a pan, add vinegar to prevent clotting, and heat until just warm. Smacznego! She smiles. Me picturing my flock pacing placidly, safe at home, my tender goose friends. I smile with my little predator teeth and feel complicit.
Well, and Happy New Year!
What a perfect comment, Mothergoose! You and the Brothers Grimm understand perfectly well what interests children. And a Happy New Year to you, too!
–David
January 2, 2008 at 12:00 pm
Wizzer
Glad I didn’t read this before my Christmas Dinner – may have turned to nut roast!!
I’m glad you didn’t too! Thanks, Wizzer.
–David