Melvin's photo and comment thread inspired me to recall this story of our own
We lived in a very out of the way farmhouse, with no mains facilities at all, we used to run chickens, and my wife worked a productive vegetable garden. One afternoon, some friends arrived with a few others in tow and proposed staying for dinner as a kind of impromptu party. We said, "sure, sounds like fun", and as they set about opening the wine they had brought, we set about preparing dinner.
My wife dug up some spuds and carrots and onions, and I headed for the chicken shed with an axe in hand.
A little while later, as everyone was happily munching and quaffing, someone asked, "you don't have a freezer here, I don't understand where all this great food came from!" I replied, "well, the vegetables came out of the garden, and the chicken is VERY fresh."
The man looked horrified and stopped eating. "You mean, this chicken, was running around when we, when we arrived...?"
When I nodded, he and several others politely pushed their plates to the side. That was an eye-opener. And ever since, we've wondered where people think their frozen chickens come from. And also what relation the "frozen chicken" lump has to the entire process of feeding, killing, de-feathering, chopping up and cooking.
Those of us who enjoy the benefits of modern civilization and technology, often seem to live in a world so remote from the real world. This is where getting back to nature, being naked, feeling more a part of our environment can, in some ways, bring us back to the real world.
One thing I do know for certain, is that our chickens led carefree and contented lives until the very moment when they died.