Every spring in Fruita, Colorado, festival-goers celebrate the life of Mike the Headless Chicken. This startling fact I discovered only last week while browsing online to learn about life in small-town Fruita, a destination of my husband’s during his recent hiking trip.
Since then, I haven’t been able to get Mike out of my mind, or the numerous questions raised by his the events of his life.
A Wyandotte Rooster, Mike would have become a Fruita family’s dinner one night in 1945, if all things had gone as normal. They didn’t. The chop to Mike’s head went at a peculiar angle; following this, Mike continued to walk about and peck for food.
The chopper, a man called Lloyd Olsen, was an unusual man, I think. He decided to care for Mike in his headless state, and to feed him with an eyedropper that funneled food right into his esophagus. Olsen also took Mike to a university where experts explained that Mike’s jugular had gone untouched by the blade. Blood had then clotted at the site of the blow. Because the brain stem was left intact, Mike was able to live in a healthy state (with eyedropper feedings) for another 18 months.
I should clarify that Mike was no obscure, small-town bird. He toured nationally and was featured in Life Magazine. Now in the computer era, he has a fan club, a You-tube presence, and a Facebook page. It’s only that his story is still unknown to many non-Coloradans.
If you would like to see what headless Mike looked like, and read more of his story (and why he died after 18 months), click here:
Mike
Now to the spring festival. Held each May, it celebrates Mike’s will to live. That, I like a lot. And at this point it’s only fair to note that, as I discussed in my April 16 blog post (to see it, scroll down), I do eat some chicken, although I eat no beef, pork, or veal. I can hardly bluster on indignantly about Mike’s near-fate as a delicious fryer.
But I’m left uneasy by some aspects of this whole headless-Mike cult of celebration. OK, I can handle the near-tasteless jokes on the festival’s website, like “Attending this fun, family event is a NO BRAINER.”
What bothers me is this: How can we celebrate Mike’s will to live, happily acknowledge his spirit, and then proceed to eat chickens (and of course many other animals) who presumably have an equally strong spirit? Can we look this animal spirit straight in the eye and then…. consume it?
For me, making a complete commitment to vegetarianism has its challenges because of some medical-dietary issues that I won’t bore you by detailing. I will say this, though: When I eat chicken nowadays, increasingly I feel bad about it, and I’m working on cutting back. If Mike’s celebrity pushes me (and maybe others too?) to find alternatives to even minimal carnivory, maybe that’s his best legacy of all.
Comments
Hope this helps