Why do you think my father trained me to make sure it was dead? We could tell the damned thing was alive an drunning round the boot, so dad had to take the back seat out, reach through and wring it's neck! After that I was trained to make sure the neck was broken! Any doubts and to the driver's window where dad would do the honours! When I was about 10 he taught me how to pluck and gut the bird! Great days!