I used to live on a homestead where we'd occasionally kill and butcher chickens after giving them a long happy life of running free on a large property - basically the "happy farm" every carnist likes to pretend they buy their meat from.
It was still wrong and I think back on that time really negatively - the killing at least. I loved taking care of those little dinosaurs and watching them run around while I smoked on the front porch. They should have just been pets.
Family has kept birds for years that are essentially pets - it's funny how chickens are written off as these stupid meat beasts when they each have individual personalities and quirks. Like, even the farm animals people feel less guilty about eating because they're "less intelligent" are just individual lil guys doing their own thing.
Had some chicken pals for a while when living on a farm. No one at meat there and we did move the eggs into a section of the barn so there wouldn't be egg bits making the place gross.
Every one that I got to name. We had 40 chickens and 3 ducks so there was a lot to keep in mind, but I got to name one of the ducks and a few of the chickens, and they were my favorites. Especially the ones I named after commies - my housemates never knew why we had a duck named Tito, or that Emma's and Rosa's full names were actually Emma Goldhen and Rosa Cluxemburg.
But they were all pretty special, and even the ones I didn't form a long-lasting emotional bond deserved better than being eaten.