When living at New Norkfolk I had a swing which consisted of two ropes hanging from a tree and a wooden seat, in the backyard. One day my father had to chop one our chooks heads off so mum could cook one for a meal, not the head but the fowl. The axe was sharpened the chopping block was checked and I was swinging on my swing being a small child. A few neighbours came to visit and watch the big event.
The head of the chook was axed and that was that, until this dead chook started to fly, I took off and it followed me with my father telling me not to be frightened as it was normal for this type of thing to happen. Eventually after a few minutes all was calm thank goodness.
The above photo was taken by someone else - I have borrowed it, and of course it's a rooster.
