So, we knew it would come eventually but no one envisioned it happening so soon. Chickens don’t live a terribly long time, about 5-8 years is average. Yet sometimes circumstances outside of our control happen and we are forced to face the reality of life. It’s fragile and unpredictable and time is promised to no one.
Recently, we lost two of our feathered family. One bird was my favorite, the sweetest Easter Egger named Ladybird. She loved to be pet and cuddled. Just the gentlest soul. She, unfortunately, met her demise because of some skittish hens who got spooked and accidentally broke her neck. I held her for her final last twitches and then she was gone. That was hard for me.
Now, I understand that these things happen and so I didn’t want to let her death be in vain. It’s not practical to have a bunch of little chicken graves all over, but I didn’t want to just toss her out with the trash either. Mr. Artful Homemaker asked around to some friends and we gave her to someone who would use her for sustenance. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I’m thankful he could.
After that loss, I was just not ready for what came next…
A few weeks later we were getting ready for a trip to Vegas for my sister’s wedding. The night before we left I was collecting the eggs and when I reached into the nest to grab them, one squished in my hand. It was a soft shelled egg!
My chickens have always laid perfect eggs from the start, so after a year of laying these perfect eggs comes a soft egg? Weird. But there wasn’t much I could do other than research and pray for the best while I was gone.
We leave the next day for a ten day trip and my good friends Annie and Raphael are sending me daily updates. No weird eggs, and all the chicks are good. Great news! sigh of relief. Exhale. Good.
Then we get home and all seems well for a couple days, I go to collect the eggs one afternoon and see little Flower dead and gone. With a heavy heart I had to inspect her body to see if there are any signs of injury or infection or anything. Nothing as far as I can see. I assumed she got her neck broke too, until I checked the chicken cam. Best investment ever, for anyone considering it.
At around 6am that morning she was wobbly on the roost, fell off the roost and after an hour of flapping just gave up the ghost. My best estimation is that she was egg bound and I was unaware and couldn’t help her in time. Due to the nature of her death, I didn’t want to risk anyone getting sick from her meat, so I buried little Flower in our garden.
The kids and I painted rocks to decorate her grave and in the spring I’ll plant some vining flowers on a pretty little trellis that serves as her gravestone, that way she’ll be a feature in the homestead garden 2024.
Now I’m sure there will be plenty of long-standing homesteaders and flock owners who are rolling their eyes at this whole ordeal. But as a first time flock owner, I hand raised these babies in my home and named each one and have spoiled the heck out of them from day one. So, to lose two of them within a month not only affects my pretty array of colored eggs, but leaves a hole in my heart for those two beauties that made my flock complete. Especially since they were two really sweet ladies.
Two exciting things out of this whole experience is:
1. knowing that I can face whatever comes with fortitude and an attitude of learning, and
2. come spring I’ll be adding to my flock which means a couple more fuzzy butt babies!
It’s hard to say goodbye but we carry on because we must.
Flower and Ladybird, you may be gone but you’re never forgotten. 🙏❤️
Artful Homemaker 