a eulogy for chickens.

as i mentioned in a previous post, our sweet chickens passed away a couple of weeks ago.  this is a brief synopsis of our chicken history. 

about 4 years ago, justin and i were walking the pups in the field by our (old) house.  we ran into a guy with two border collies and got to talking.  he mentioned he and his wife keep 6 chickens in their backyard and described a little bit about how/why they did so.  we were intrigued.  on the walk back, i told justin "we should totally get chickens!".  and so it began. 

justin and our friend chip constructed our first coop and after loads of research and some lolly-gagging, we headed to callahan's general store and procured two fine hens: bixby and octavia.  they were rock island reds and they were hilarious and not very smart (lack of intelligence is a trait in chickens).  our plan was to have them in their coop and in a chicken run justin had built, but that plan soon deteriorated and they mostly just hung out in the yard and went into their coop at night.  bixby laid an egg the first day we got her and then again the day after that.  then neither chicken laid again for almost six weeks, which had me questioning why the heck we thought chickens were such a great idea in the first place.  if they aren't laying, essentially you have pets that don't really love you, aren't trainable, and that poop ALL THE TIME.  but really, they were adorable despite all of that and got increasingly so once we started getting a regular supply of delicious eggs. 

fast forward several months and jb and i went on a weekend trip with my parents.  the chicks had stayed by themselves for much longer periods of time, so we weren't really worried.  well, when we got back, octavia had died.  i was particularly sad, as i thought of octavia as "my" chicken.  and she did the chicken dance when you walked up to her and had a generally sweet disposition.  my reaction to her death should have been a warning that maybe i am not, in fact, cut out to be a farmer...but we decided we should press on.  back to callahan's we went, and we returned with bernadette and bettyrene.  they were regular brown hens and the pecking order in our coop took a little while to establish, but ultimately, the ladies all decided to get along. 

fast forward another year and you'll remember the st. thomas trip during my early second trimester.  we lost bettyrene to our neighbor/housesitter's dog, max.  that was another rough one.  bettyrene channeled octavia's sweet personality and she was justin's little pet. 

and then there were two.  bixby and bernadette were sweet and tough ladies.  they survived a few possum attacks, held their own against ollie and etta when the dogs wanted to play a little too hard, and helped control the pest population in our yard.  when justin would walk outside to feed them, he'd do his little chicken call and you'd see them run from wherever they were.  when they ran, they looked like little old ladies wearing bloomers.  it was my favorite thing to watch.  they would destroy a potted plant faster than you could get it watered.  they loved to roll in dirt and sneak under the fence.  they each took to laying their eggs in the dog house at random points over the year.  they were inquisitive and dumb and reminded me endlessly of weird little dinosaurs.  justin likes to tell the story about how one day he saw bixby standing on one leg and he got all freaked out, thinking she'd been hurt and wondering if there were other injuries and what we might do with a one-legged chicken.  turns out she was just standing on one leg like a weirdo.  we really loved those chickens. 

when we decided to move, we weren't sure what to do with the hens.  we loved them, but a small-ish yard predominated by a pool is not the best environment for destructive chickens that like to free range.  we waffled far too long on the decision and it was time for our tenants to move in, so justin set them up in temporary housing in a shady part of our backyard.  they were in our dog crate with food and water, but we thought the shade from the trees would be enough.  as it turns out, this was a fatal assumption.  it got up to 106 that day, and we think it was just too much for them.  when we went outside around 830 to swim, they had knocked over their water bowl and neither of them were moving. 

we were both rather hysterical in the immediate aftermath, but i have thought of a few things i am grateful for.  i am glad they died together.  i think it would have been really sad to lose one and have the other be lonely for the rest of her days.  i am also glad they lived the life they did.  there aren't a lot of chickens in this world that get to play in open spaces all day with food and water readily provided to them.  i hope that it was easy on them - that they just went peacefully to sleep, dreaming their little chicken dreams.