Well...we lost another chicken today. Of course it was my favorite one. She had a crooked beak and would 'talk' to me when I came in. In fact, she was the nicest one. She was my little brooder. For the past few weeks I got to pick her up and pet her, and take her off her pretend eggs.
Poor little Beeky. Yes I named her. The only other one I named.
They were out free ranging in our yard. The neighbors dog came running and got her.
By the time I got there she was laying in the tall grass trying to 'talk', but nothing came out.
I carried her to her nest to see if maybe she was just in shock.
When I checked on her a few hours later she was dead.
So....really I could have eaten her. BUT...when I tried to pluck a feather off of her to see what it was like to pluck a feather off a dead chicken, I winced. I just could not do it. I felt like I was hurting her, and part of me was scared she was not completely dead and I would torture her.
So... we buried her. Yes we did. Stop laughing. Putting the dirt over her was not easy. For the record I have only seen ONE person in my life who I loved dead....and it was weird. I have been to autopsies as a paramedic and that was just fine. I even put the other chickens in the fire this winter. But for some reason this felt different. I really did become attached.
Of course now all I can think about is how every other chicken I've eaten has had a personality as well. Oh I hope they all died fast.
Rest in Peace Beeky.
I my other chickens look great, and I hope to be getting more the end of May. Thank goodness my FIL will come at the end of the summer to 'take them away'....and fill my freezer.