It had to be the one when I was young (6 or 8 years of age). On a subconscious level, I must not have approved of my father killing a chicken for the family's dinner (I ate chicken, just the same).
The dream was being in the chicken coop surrounded by chickens, and a gnome, complete with a white beard below his waist, and a red, pointed cap on his white head, glowered with his angry eyes and pointed at me. Without words, I understood that the little people were going to embody the carcasses of dead chickens and take revenge upon us.
I made the gasping sounds of fright that came through in my physical reality, and my sister, who shared the bed, nudged me with her elbow to awaken me out of that dreadful dream, which only occurred once.
I continued to eat chicken until the age of 21, when I finally became vegetarian!
P.S. I raised geese as a young girl, too, but I could never bring myself to eat one;; I simply was too emotionally attached to those birds that had brought me so much joy in caring for them.