So tonight I got home late. I went to my chickens run and there lay Little Girl, my darling EE. Dead. Her head stuck out at an odd angle, i can tell her neck was broken. By my rooster or something else. It is under two months until her first birthday. It breaks my heart that she didnt make it a year with her sisters.
Chicken farmers? They dont care* when one of their birds winds up dead. But me? Oh, I care* alright. My birds arent my money makers, they are my PETS, my BABIES. I raised all seven of them from golf-ball sized fuzz balls. I was their mother then, and I am now. We formed a bond when they were just a day old. Little Girl? She was always my favorite. Always wanted to run and see me, always wanted to be petted. She made the cutest little sounds of surprise when you picked her up, and whenever i had a bad day at school i would march donw to the coop, scoop her up, and hug her close. She didnt mind. She didnt struggle.
Could the chickens that I DONT like be taken away? My psychotic RIR? My brothers BO? Ones I didnt care this much about? NOOOO. Life dont work that way.
So now I sit, bawling my eyes out. No one in my house has said "Im sorry" or given me a hug. I can tell what their thinking: "Its just a chicken, right?"
Wrong.
Rest In Piece honeybear. I will see you again someday.
**edited for language**
Chicken farmers? They dont care* when one of their birds winds up dead. But me? Oh, I care* alright. My birds arent my money makers, they are my PETS, my BABIES. I raised all seven of them from golf-ball sized fuzz balls. I was their mother then, and I am now. We formed a bond when they were just a day old. Little Girl? She was always my favorite. Always wanted to run and see me, always wanted to be petted. She made the cutest little sounds of surprise when you picked her up, and whenever i had a bad day at school i would march donw to the coop, scoop her up, and hug her close. She didnt mind. She didnt struggle.
Could the chickens that I DONT like be taken away? My psychotic RIR? My brothers BO? Ones I didnt care this much about? NOOOO. Life dont work that way.
So now I sit, bawling my eyes out. No one in my house has said "Im sorry" or given me a hug. I can tell what their thinking: "Its just a chicken, right?"
Wrong.
Rest In Piece honeybear. I will see you again someday.
**edited for language**
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