My brothers and sisters nervously look at me and then push their plates away in unison: "We're not eating Bandy Legs either".

Mum sees all the sad-faced children and proclaims: "We'll I don't want to eat Bandy Legs either".

Dad just sits at the table quietly. Any moment, we expect him to explode into a lecture about wasting hard-earned, decent food, especially when there are so many starving kids in the world.

But this steak is different.

Just a few weeks before it was a young Hereford steer running around the paddocks of our family farm contentedly grazing with his red and white mates. We watched them being born, suckling their mothers and weaning on the lush, green pastures - free to enjoy life.

Bandy Legs was not your normal calf. Although he was perfectly healthy in every other way, he was born with his front legs turned in at the knee. His back legs were fine, but he could only crawl on his front knees.

Normally, a calf like this would be put down at birth, but with a large family to feed, my parents decided to raise him and he was free to roam the farm.

But that was until one bleak winter day when the chest freezer supplies were dwindling and Bandy Legs was looking nice and healthy...and fat.

I vividly recall my first defiant protest against my parents' authority when it came time to serve the first rump steaks. The objection to eating Bandy Legs continued for a good year every time a casserole, hamburger or roast was served up.

Mum kept assuring us all that the meat from Bandy Legs was well and truly finished months before, but we refused to believe her. She didn't need to buy pet food for ages. Our dog thought he had died and gone to meat heaven.

Amazingly, none of us turned out to be vegetarians. I eventually got over Bandy Legs and I am now very anal about the way my steaks are cooked (eye fillet please - on a hot grill, turned once until medium-rare, sprinkled with cracked black pepper and salt and rested in an oven)

That's one thing about country kids. They get to see where food comes from and they learn to appreciate it as part of the life and death cycle.

They know that eggs covered in chook shit and feathers make the best sponges because they are fresh.

They know that once the chickens start laying less eggs it's time for them to become the next Sunday roast.

They know when you chop a chook's head off with an axe, it lies on the chopping block still squawking while the headless body continues to run around the backyard.

They know the smell of a ruptured sheep gut when it is accidentally pierced during the butchering process.

They know that milk fresh from cows is warm and that a layer of fresh cream gathers at the top of the jug as it cools.

My sister lives in the suburbs but has taken it upon herself to make sure her young children learn like she did by introducing pets into their lives. They have three kids. They also have (at last count) three dogs, one fish, one spiny stick insect, two geckos (and 50 crickets to feed them with) and two cats.

"Thank God we do not live on a farm," she tells me.

They are still trying to figure out which pet is right for their family.

Her daughter asked could she have one of the grade prep class' spiny leaf insects at the end of the year.

"I thought how hard can it be?," my sister explains. "I now have to change the leaves every three days. I know that fresh eucalyptus with turn it brown and rose or wattle leaves will turn it green and I need to spray the leaves with water two to three times a day."

Apparently, the female can lay eggs without the help of a male (I love an independent woman) and each female will lay 300 to 400 eggs in her lifetime.

"Of course, our insect turns out to be a female. Anyone want a spiny leaf insect in the near future?"

Her son wanted a lizard, so they bought two geckos which are cheaper because you don't need a licence to keep them.

"Now I have to buy crickets and feed the crickets carrot and oats to keep them alive to feed the geckos. It's a wonderful thing the food chain.

"And yes, the geckos are male and female. Anyone want a baby gecko in the near future?"

They found a pet rabbit wandering the city streets one day and were unable to find its owner, despite putting up notices everywhere. So they kept it and it became another pet until one day they noticed a massive growth below its neck.

My sister sat the kids down and gently prepared them for the worst. Her husband came home from the vets with a $60 bill and the rabbit still in its cage.

"We've got a diagnosis," he said. "We own a fat rabbit."

Luckily their freezer was full.