Man getting money in his cap from woman for plucking a chicken in the road.
The Scottish Word:

Pouk.

It’s grand tae see a chook pouked wi care an consideration by a person instead o hunners by factory machines.

I ken yer bunnets for its giblets but I wanted tae show ma appreciation wi a few bob.

So monie folk nooadays tak their meat for granted wi nae thoucht o the whaur or how or an ounce o gratitude to or knowin of the beast that provides it.

And no consideration at aw o the bits that are wasted an binned. So here ye are.

Translation:

pouk: pluck.

It is pleasing to see a chicken plucked with care and consideration by a person instead of hundreds by factory machines.

I know your bonnet is for its giblets but I wanted to show my appreciation with a few coins.

So many people nowadays take their food for granted without a thought of where or how or an ounce of gratitude to or awareness of the animal that provides it.

And no consideration at all of the parts that are binned and wasted. So here take this.

ˈpuk

Back in the day.

My growing up was split between my parents and my granny’s place in the wilds on a mixed arable and dairy farm.

My granny was a single parent with five still at home teenagers and wee me at weekends. She worked on the farm.

I’ve seen my step-dad skin and cook rabbits for dinner – rabbit pies. The cat used to bring them home, alive sometimes.

I remember the smell of singed feathers as my granny dispatched a bantam every Sunday and plucked and prepared it in the kitchen.

What she didn’t know was that my step-dad had only given the hens to her to look after until he built a run to contain them.

Too bad when he eventually came to collect there were none left.

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