The funniest thing to me about the Harry and Meghan interview last night was the self-congratulatory “rescue” of the chickens in their back yard. I realize I am just a poor sharecropper’s son from the sticks, but I always figured chickens were for EATING, and have always marveled ( and delighted) at their many gastronomic applications. It never occurred to me that they were sentient beings, worthy of being rescued. I mean, I might feel a smidgetly tinge of guilt about roasting up Foghorn Leghorn or the Widow Hen, but they are CARTOONS!
Does anybody really think that H and M flew to one of Frank Perdue’s chicken farms and screamed “STOP!!!” right before the hatchet was to befall on the Widow Hen’s neck? “We must SAVE this cute lil chicken!”