So my little girl chicken died yesterday. She was nine years old.
She was not really mine but actually was my chicken because I took care of her a lot. Her owners were away a lot so so was happy to watch her.
They had six but slowly over time only Daisy was left & I loved and spoiled her. She wasn’t cuddly but she came when I called her, ate from my hand and was extremely sweet.
She had s good death- and I watched and held her as she slowly died. We buried her by a tree next to a hosta plant with all our neighbors sprinkling rose petals, oatmeal and each take turns placing dirt on her grave.
Zebra (zebe) was my favorite hen of all time. She was 1 year old and was a barred rock hen.
From the day I picked her up from the post office after I ordered her online, she was always feisty and smart. She was never scared of me and instead trusted me. I’m only 16 years old my chickens are my babies. My family says “you know it’s just a chicken” but too me I’m like yes, it was a chicken, my chicken.
This morning I found her unexpectedly dead for no apparent reason. My immediate response was to ball my eyes out for hours. My whole day has been spent crying over you, Zebe.
Zebra, if I could see you one more time, I would wanna tell you that I love you and I miss you and that you have been an amazing pet and friend.
And I wish I could just talk to her or sing to her one last time. I wish I knew we had so short time and I hope you remember me.
I will never forget my crazy zebra. Fly high baby girl. Mommy loves you and none of us are the same without you. I know you are hearing me right now.
Matilda was an 18 month old ex bat girl, I got her in September 2018 from a charity that save chickens and ducks from going to slaughter.
Matilda came home with four other girls. Poor girl looked like she was ready for the oven - no feathers, only a few on her head. Her sisters had all their feathers and would constantly peck and bully her.
But over the weeks Matilda grew stronger and braver. She would run behind the others, peck them and run off or hide behind my legs.
Last week she started walking strange. We bathed her hoping it would help her, but to no avail.
Monday afternoon the vet said it was egg peritonitis and nothing could be done. She was put to sleep, safe in my arms.
You were our first chicken, we got you on the last day of June this year (2019).
We called you Nugget on our way back in the car, that made us laugh a lot. A little white Leghorn, you made us giggle and fret. You came home and flew out of the cardboard box, I thought I lost you then! I spent the first hour of knowing you physically chasing you around, trying to shoo you down from my neighbour's roof!
You were the first to lay an egg (within 5 days of being in your home), the first to come out the coop, the first to jump up on my make shift ramp for treats.
You had a happy high pitch girly cluck, loving all sorts of treats and berries (you were the fastest to all treats!).
I loved holding you while I tried to nurse you, even though you were poorly, you always put up a fight. Nugget died from a vent prolapse - you were poorly for 2 days. I think you liked your warm baths. You certainly gave me lots of practice at being a chicken mom and I thank you for that.
Although you were only with us for 7 weeks (5/6 months old), you gave us lots of joy, eggs and memories and we love you dearly.
You slept so peacefully on your last night. I didn’t want to wake you for a last cuddle. The radio was on to keep you company and you’re no longer in pain.
Thank you for all the joy you brought, Nug Nug, we love you.
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