It was the neighbors Leszcz claims he was considering on the night he had second thoughts about killing his Old Bourbon. The guys on the block had fallen in love with the bird, he reasoned. Plus, they seemed keen on the squawking she did at the sight of strangers in her midst. Why disarm the free neighborhood security system?

Then Leszcz thought about the sausage he'd make with the turkey's neck, the lip balm he'd craft from her fat. The heart and the stomach tempted him too.

He took his chef's knife, slit the Old Bourbon's throat and plucked every last of her chestnut-color feathers by hand. Scalding the bird to shake the feathers loose was out of the question.

As he puts it, "There's something more intimate about doing it this way."

See a slideshow of pigs, goats, chickens, fruits and vegetables grown at YellowTree Farm

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