Yesterday, with mixed emotions, I butchered both of our remaining Guinea fowl. At one point, we had dozens of the birds; the idea was to employ them for their bug-eating prowess. However, as time went by, we discovered their downsides: Guineas are always half-wild, extremely difficult to catch, and even more difficult to contain. Mrs. Yeoman Farmer grew increasingly irritated with their tendency to fly into her garden and take dust baths in her recently-planted beds. I managed to buy them a reprieve from the chopping block last summer; I’d grown rather fond of them and their antics, and didn’t want to see our farm without them.
But even I have come around now. It’s not so much a matter of seeing Guineas as pests — it’s more a matter of letting go of my attachment to them. And besides, guinea meat is delicious…and we figured it would make a nice treat for Christmas Dinner.
So, Saturday night I plucked both of them off their perches in the barn. One put up quite a fight, and made me chase him all over the building before I could corner him. The other allowed himself to be surprised, and went quietly. They spent their last night in a cardboard box, and then I dispatched them Sunday morning after Mass.
Was it hard to pull the trigger (or knife, as it were) on them? Sure. Butchering chickens and ducks and turkeys isn’t difficult; we have so many of each, they’re more or less anonymous. But with only two guineas, they’re “part of the crew” in a way that no individual hen or duck ever is. And it was tough knowing that with them gone, there would be one less type of critter in our menagerie.
But it’s not like I’m in mourning for them or anything. No way. I’m happily looking forward to Christmas Dinner!