She was a Speckled Sussex which is a lovely old breed of chicken - all nice and freckly and quite a little fatty too. On Monday morning while I sat at my desk as I do now she looked in the window at me. She gave me quite a look- as if she knew we were planning on culling the flock to make way for newer hens that would actually lay an egg now and then. I felt guilty as I'm always going to be somewhat conflicted about keeping critters and all that it means.
That evening when Ron came home the chickens weren't out to see him. He had to call them and they came slowly and seemed very frightened. He got all of them back in the coop but Deary. She wasn't there the next morning either so that afternoon he went looking for her. We think it must have been a hawk or eagle - any other predator would've taken her away - this one took what they wanted on the spot.
this is Deary when she was a wee fuzz-buttAnd if you're wondering - no we don't bury them - her poor little corpse went into the green bin. It was picked up this morning. Ron came to bring me my coffee in bed and said 'it was a short but moving service'.