There are fewer things more beautiful on this planet than six baby chickens eating, sleeping and shitting in a rubbermaid container on top of your dryer. "But why," you may ask "don't you let them live outside in your chicken coop?". The answer is simple: chickens are too fucking retarded to survive on their own at any point in their lives. Too young and they'll freeze to death or slip out of our chicken run into the big bad woods that have claimed the lives of three of our other fully grown chickens already. Even as adults they don't make the mental connection between "where I live=safe" and "outside of this fence=certain death". I can only assume that due to 10,000 or so years of humans breeding chickens for food their brains have been reduced to the evolutionary equivalent of Stove Top Stuffing.
It is really hard for me to feel bad eating an animal that simply could not exist in the wild in its current state. But then you name them, and there you go...
In this all animal editions allow me to introduce our newest family members Ghost, Rae, Little Gabe, Ms. Food, Petra and Achilles.