We lost one of our chickens today. Mike found her dead, in the chicken run. We don’t know what happened to her, she wasn’t wounded in any way. I tucked them in last night and she was fine, made her happy chickie noises at me. So to have her collapse today is so frustrating and mysterious.
Petunia was definitely the top of the pecking order, she was a very bold bird and had developed a special relationship with Mia. Mia loves to visit the ladies every day, and often she play bows and pounces at the run, trying to get the chickens to play with her. Petunia was the only hen who would stand her ground with Mia, and a few times even flapped her wings at her as if she was playing back. The two had clearly built a bond, of sorts.
Tunie was the quintessential Easter chick when we got her. Bright yellow fluff, cute as could be. And she grew into a large, strikingly white hen. Although, once we moved them into the run, she didn’t stay white long. A few dust baths and a little mud, and she was permanently brown. And that hen loved mud puddles! As soon as it started raining, she would be out stomping in the mud!
Tunie was a cool bird. And I know that losing hens is part of being a chicken farmer. But I just wish I knew why so I could prevent it and do better for the rest of the flock. It would be easier to accept the loss if I at least learned from it. Meanwhile, the rest of the ladies get a little more spoiled, and the coop is a little quieter tonight.
Farm Fresh Adventures 