Quote:
Originally Posted by Encroaching Death
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When I was a kid, one of my friends wanted a chicken coop where he could keep chickens.
The chickens ended up getting some terminal and very contagious disease. So we had to kill them. I forget who told us we had to do that (there were no adults around).
We all learned a little about arterial spray that day.
Probably 20 chickens or so. We were COVERED in blood.
We didn't have any guns available because we were all like 9 years old.
So we just used some old rusty hatchets.
This all took place in a suburban backyard. I wonder what the neighbors thought when they saw 5 or 6 blood covered children walking out of their yard.
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Had a cat that would go out our doggy door every day and not come back without something (bird, gopher, or baby rabbit) in its mouth
The longer he had it, the more pieces it would be in. After a while our carpets looked like the Manson family, just old dried bloodstains and feathers
Some of the stuff he’d thrash pretty good but wouldn’t kill. So I’d take the animal’s torn up hobbled ass halfway down the block to try to give it a fighting chance. But the cat would give me a look like “you just took that thing away from me? I’m going to carve it into 10 pieces instead of 5 this time, just because of that”…and then it would. The animal never ended up getting away, the cat would find it again, especially if it was really hurt
So the only other solution was The Killing Brick. Just looked away and threw it straight down onto the wounded animals’s head as hard as I could. Had to do that a lot as a kid…