Once when I was younger and livin in the sticks. We kept some chickens they were so cute and yes very clever, but the bloody rooster was insane. Sometimes you couldn't get near the coops to collect the eggs and then he went medi-evil and started just pecking any chicken he could find to death. (good way to teach children about pecking order) Well sorry to say but the rooster just had to go. Now before I go on about the rooster,s demise I will just add that we were originally city folk and really didn't have a bloody clue about raising chickens let alone killing them. So my mum grabbed the axe my brother grabbed the rooster and placed him very unceremoniously on the chopping block...down came the axe.. the head did not come off...down came the axe again...and you guessed it head and body did not seperate. (Maybe we should have sharpened the axe I hear you say). Now even I who had been attacked by this rooster on many occassions was in tears. Don't ask me how we killed him in the end but we did and we felt so bad that my mum stewed him for hours so that he would not be wasted. I will end with after my first bite I knew why that head was not coming off.