One of three hens I got for my allotment last year.
She lived on plot 22, with Margo & Ethel. Quieter than the other two, she happily went about her day. Sunbathing, sitting on top of the coop, pecking around or sitting in the sand area, in an old tyre.
She was always last into the coop at dusk, sometimes waiting to be lifted in.
I will miss her but know that she had a short but happy life.
She came to us as a day old chicken who became my granddaughter's very favorite.I couldn't help but favor her also.
She was a elegant Silkie with pretty bright blue checks hence Princess Blueberry. I always choose her tiny bumpy eggs over the other girls. They seemed to be special.Very tasty indeed!
Tonight I went to put the girls to bed and there lying still was my special girl.
She was comical the way she ran to be with the others. Princess blueberry was shy and sweet and endlessly curious. She survived a close call with a red tailed hawk last summer barely escaping. She knew her name and enjoyed following me around the garden in hopes of a tasty worm.
I will miss her terribly. Perhaps I'll never stop looking for her funny hairdo as she ran out her door in time for breakfast.
Princess Blueberry's life was short, only a year old but it was a happy one.
We will miss her .May she rest in peace in the mint garden and feel the warm earth on a crystal blue summer day.
We had 9 lovely chickens, one of them the friendliest cockerel you would ever meet.
When I came down to feed them in the morning, none of them were there. Our lovely bantams had been stolen by someone I must have met, as only our neighbours knew about them. I couldn't believe someone could stoop so low.
Our 4 larger chickens had been let out, they were obviously 'not worth anything'. They were all killed by the fox.
Thank you, lovely chickens! You were fantastic pets.
I saw an egg in the nesting box with blood drops on it and went looking to make sure whoever had laid it was okay. She was laying on her side behind a tree stump.
When I scooped her up I knew she was already gone. The grief I felt was overwhelming. I held her and cried so hard I could hardly breathe.
My sister and I had raised her from a two day old chick. Out of twelve chicks she was the bravest and most daring. She loved to fly up into my lap and when I was bent over picking up hen poop, she would fly up onto my back and work her way up to my shoulder.
She would follow me around when I worked in the run and talk to me or sometimes at me the whole time.
She was only six months old but I loved her so much.
The little white chicken appeared one night on my window sill, eating the food I set out for the cats. I have fed roosters before (since my neighbors aren't known for their kindness), and I thought, she's welcome to come as often as she'd like.
I started setting out the chicken feed I had bought since the feed store told me that cat food isn't good for this type of visitor.
It had only been a few days since the little white chicken first came to my house when a neighbor's dog got through the fence and killed the precious white bird.
Although I angrily screamed and chased the dog back down the street, there was nothing that could be done to bring the beautiful white chicken back -- she was gone.
I'll bury her and say a prayer. I'll dog proof up my fence, so if any more chickens or roosters should come to my house, I might be able to provide them with the start of a home.
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