I grew up with stories of this Rhode Island Red hen named Bitty that my mom had when she was young and thought I'd share. Bitty lived to be about 15 to 18 years old (maybe even a bit older), my mom can't remember how old Bitty was when she died. Bitty is part of my reasons that I would love to have some chickens of my own in fact. Anyways...
My mom lived on a small farm when she was young and when she was five years old, a neighbor who had and bred chickens gave her a box full of Rhode Island Red chicks. One of those chicks got named Bitty. Bitty and the others had a coop my grandfather made for them along with a fenced in pen to protect them. Over the years many of Bitty's friends passed on; a few got attacked by foxes and the like and many got run over by cars after the pen fell down and never got repaired, the hens used to walk around next to the road where many tasty bugs lived and some very mean people driving down the roads would go out of their way to hit poor animals walking next to the road, cats and dogs including the chickens.
After the last of Bitty's friends died, she grew very depressed and did not understand where her friend went so she wandered into the woods bordering my mother's property. She was missing for a few days before she came back home, hungry and starting to understand her friend was no where to be found. My grandfather, concerned for the aging hen moved Bitty into the barn at night as the coop wasn't safe anymore and was falling apart after the years. Bitty made friends with another aging animal that lived in the barn, Buddy a black Cocker Spaniel. They'd sleep together, huddled close in the cold winter nights.
Even with the wonderful Buddy as a friend, Bitty still missed her chicken friends. She'd go into the woods some days to look for them, but would never find them and always return to the barn for the night. Mom in the meantime had moved out of the house to begin her life as an adult. Mom would come back home every so often to see her parents and check on the aging hen and her dog friend. Bitty lived out her senior chickenhood and passed away from old age, Buddy passing a few years later.
My mom lived on a small farm when she was young and when she was five years old, a neighbor who had and bred chickens gave her a box full of Rhode Island Red chicks. One of those chicks got named Bitty. Bitty and the others had a coop my grandfather made for them along with a fenced in pen to protect them. Over the years many of Bitty's friends passed on; a few got attacked by foxes and the like and many got run over by cars after the pen fell down and never got repaired, the hens used to walk around next to the road where many tasty bugs lived and some very mean people driving down the roads would go out of their way to hit poor animals walking next to the road, cats and dogs including the chickens.
After the last of Bitty's friends died, she grew very depressed and did not understand where her friend went so she wandered into the woods bordering my mother's property. She was missing for a few days before she came back home, hungry and starting to understand her friend was no where to be found. My grandfather, concerned for the aging hen moved Bitty into the barn at night as the coop wasn't safe anymore and was falling apart after the years. Bitty made friends with another aging animal that lived in the barn, Buddy a black Cocker Spaniel. They'd sleep together, huddled close in the cold winter nights.
Even with the wonderful Buddy as a friend, Bitty still missed her chicken friends. She'd go into the woods some days to look for them, but would never find them and always return to the barn for the night. Mom in the meantime had moved out of the house to begin her life as an adult. Mom would come back home every so often to see her parents and check on the aging hen and her dog friend. Bitty lived out her senior chickenhood and passed away from old age, Buddy passing a few years later.
