When I was a kid my mates dad was a butcher and they lived in the butchers shop. To go in his house I had to go through the shop and his dad used to have a laugh by pushing all the chickens or turkeys that were hanging on the rail towards me.another generation said:Butchers' shops with sawdust on the floor and thin chains hanging in the doorway.
I used to be petrified - I hated being hit on the head and neck by dead birds heads, beaks and eyes......................it's one of my earliest memories and I never ate turkey or chicken for years.