Wednesday morning, Rob, Owl and I woke up to 3 crying girls. It took a few minutes to get out what had happened. They went out to do the morning animal chores and found Rosie, Pumpkin's beloved chicken, dead in a corner of the chicken yard and her feathers were scattered about. They saw a raccoon scamper away from the yard.
The girls stayed with me and we snuggled while Rob went out to see what had happened. Oh, how they cried. The grief was deep. Alybug and Em gathered around Pumpkin with their tear-stained faces, telling her how very sorry they were.
I often talk about how I would like to raise our own animals for meat. We would know the animals were lovingly treated and killed kindly and humanely. We would know what they ate and under what conditions they lived. Anytime I bring this up, the girls (who are nearly vegetarians and absolutely never eat chicken) protest strongly. I say, "Someday you may change your mind." They assure me they won't. I have read a couple books about backyard farming, but, other than that, I've made no real steps toward it.
We have some friends (vegetarian, animal-loving friends) who raise chickens and the two women were talking a few weeks ago about the personalities of their chickens. I smiled politely in the conversation, but I had no idea what they were talking about. My dogs have personalities, but our chickens... I visit them in their yard, but I can't tell them apart, and I have never thought of them as having distinct personalities. But now that I have witnessed my girls' loss of their hens, I have come to see their love for chickens in a new light. I have a newfound respect for the sacred connection they feel and the deep bond they share.
Rosie has been buried in our backyard. We gathered around her grave with tears, flowers, happy memories and words of love. While it was difficult to watch my girls grieve so deeply, it was beautiful. I have a new understanding of each of them and a new reverence for their bond as sisters.
The girls stayed with me and we snuggled while Rob went out to see what had happened. Oh, how they cried. The grief was deep. Alybug and Em gathered around Pumpkin with their tear-stained faces, telling her how very sorry they were.
I often talk about how I would like to raise our own animals for meat. We would know the animals were lovingly treated and killed kindly and humanely. We would know what they ate and under what conditions they lived. Anytime I bring this up, the girls (who are nearly vegetarians and absolutely never eat chicken) protest strongly. I say, "Someday you may change your mind." They assure me they won't. I have read a couple books about backyard farming, but, other than that, I've made no real steps toward it.
We have some friends (vegetarian, animal-loving friends) who raise chickens and the two women were talking a few weeks ago about the personalities of their chickens. I smiled politely in the conversation, but I had no idea what they were talking about. My dogs have personalities, but our chickens... I visit them in their yard, but I can't tell them apart, and I have never thought of them as having distinct personalities. But now that I have witnessed my girls' loss of their hens, I have come to see their love for chickens in a new light. I have a newfound respect for the sacred connection they feel and the deep bond they share.
Rosie has been buried in our backyard. We gathered around her grave with tears, flowers, happy memories and words of love. While it was difficult to watch my girls grieve so deeply, it was beautiful. I have a new understanding of each of them and a new reverence for their bond as sisters.
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