Can't be as bad as butchering hogs! I remember in Arkansas when Great-Grandpa Smith and the great-uncles would do that, and thought we kids would enjoy the lesson. Instead, we all started crying and ran into the house, where my grandmothers turned up the radio, shut the curtains, and gave us sweet tea, chicken and dumplings, southern-style green beans, home canned peaches and fresh homemade pound to distract us from our distress.
I'm sure the men-folk got chewed out for poor judgement, but we kids had a party.