Mocha, the hen who loved to cluck.
by Jenny LeFane
There once was a chick, a brown chick, we fed her and played with her etc. And one day, she grew up to be the most beautiful brown and golden hen there ever was and will be.
One tragic afternoon I went outside to check on my fowls, I go behind the coop and there I find her soul gone from the flesh. I was so very upset and depressed. After all, Mocha was my most prized possession. I went on to grow the fowl group but never to replace her.
I get very, very emotional when I talk about our fallen comrades (not really comrades but still, you know what I mean...).
May Mocha forever rest on a soft heavenly cloud with other deceased hens.