R.I.P. Mr. Rooster

Today we had chicken tacos for dinner.  I opened the freezer, found a whole chicken. I thawed it out, plopped it into the crockpot with lots of yummy spices, and cooked it during church, eagerly anticipating coming home from church to have shredded mexican chicken for tacos, salad, or whatever we wanted.  I didn't think too much about the source of the chicken until we sat down to dinner and Tom announced that we were eating THE rooster from the summer.  Each of the kids continued to tell story after story of their good memories with the rooster.  He was overly chubby, loved to be chased around the yard, and had a favorite corner of the coop.  After each story, my dinner just got less and less desirable.  I was done about half-way through my chicken taco salad.