My 45-Day Broilers

You will surely be missed.

Last Monday marked the 45th day of my 20 broilers; 16 of them already bid goodbye to serve their purpose, and the rest were fortunate enough to live a little longer as they were bought alive. And yeah, I did the dressing alone! All it takes is some guts to murder those helpless chickens.

For the past month and a half, I have been wasting alloting a portion of my daily 24 hours just to clean my broilers' poop (the volume of which increases as the broilers grow old) and refill their feeder and waterer with feeds, water and vitamins two to three times a day.

Aside from the broilers' daily routine of pooping, eating, pooping, drinking, pooping, eating, pooping, sleeping, pooping, eating and pooping again (they can also do several combinations of these spectacular activities), they have nothing else to do. Just imagine the sacrifice I endured - the foul smell they brought to my place and the tedious task of properly disposing their copius poop. Sigh!

I admit, I don't have any single idea about broilers, much more how to raise them. But what pushed me to venture into this agri-business is my desire to earn and have something to keep myself busy after losing my job. If carefully planned and studied, poultry farming is not that bad. In fact, it is a very good business if you have basic knowledge, a good place and enough resources. But sans these must-haves, I pursued with the business, which I consider an experiment as far as I am concerned. Little did I know that I will just end up as a loser - financially, physically and psychologically. I should have looked for a good and hands-on mentor first before I took the risk. Okay, next time!

On the other hand, I got some things to be grateful about this flopped business of mine.

First, I was given an opportunity to learn more about accountability. No matter how sleepy I am because perhaps I slept late the night before or I just feel like sleeping until midday, my unconscious mind tells my lazy ass to wake up, get moving and feed my hungry broilers once they start to get noisy. The same thing happens before the sun sets down or when I get home no matter how tired I may be. But take note, feeding is the cause and poop cleaning is the effect.

Second, it taught me something new. I learned about broilers and how to raise them. And the next time I venture into this kind of business again, I know better what to do. One good thing about it is that when someone talks about broilers, I will not be caught amazed by whatever he says, filling my mind with theories. Instead, I can already share some of my first-hand experiences.

Third, I got to have an animal to take care of once again. It was way back in my High School when I first took care of an animal - pigeon/dove of different sorts. It feels good to have something, especially an animal, to keep an eye on. And while attending to their needs, I find myself entertained and relaxed with their activities. So with my broilers, the memories of my then pigeons/doves and how I took care of them were somewhat relived.

And lastly, thanks to my broilers' delicious meat! Tinola, chicken adobo, and fried chicken are just some of the viands that my family enjoyed. And surely, those who bought from me will also enjoy or have enjoyed their hairy/feathery(?) meat because as expected, I was not able to clean them thoroughly. Eheh.

So just like life, no matter how bad it may seem, there are always some good things that we should all be grateful for.

So there it goes - In loving memory of my 45-day broilers.

Maktub!