Honey, a Buff Orpington and the last surviving member of my original flock, was dead in her coop this morning.
She had been slowing down for some time, appeared okay Tuesday but was extremely lethargic Wednesday and refused any feed or treats.
She didn't get out of the coop when I opened it in the morning. So I lifted her out and put her in the run where she could feel the sun on her feathers. When I knelt down beside her once, I heard her making the purring sound that some hens make when they are happy. So, I think she appreciated getting moved outdoors.
Her death then wasn't unexpected; I was more surprised that she was still alive at dinner time last night.
And, then again, I wasn't. She was one tough girl. Honey was the only survivor of a mink attack that killed three coop mates, recovered from some nasty bumblefoot and was still the backyard queen, despite some apparent arthritis. Her ailments resulted in an odd gait, where she threw her feet forward, well ahead of her legs and body. But she could still throw down with any other chicken who dared to challenge her.
Once she settled down a bit from the mink incident, I let her choose her new roommates from among the existing coops, and she decided she would like to live with a pair of Salmon Faverolles and a Blue Laced Red Wyandotte. As she was clearly in decline yesterday, they all took turns sitting down beside her. It was heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time.
Honey loved grapes. All the chickens come running when I yell, "Grapes," but Honey and I had a secret code the others didn't know. "Where's my fine hen?" I would ask, and she would be first in line for treats.
She was already laying when I got her from a 4-H'er so I don't know exactly how old she was, but she lived with me for almost 8 years. I know she had a good run, but I would have kept her alive forever if I could have.
I am grateful that she's not suffering and that she will not have to live through another frigid winter. Rest in peace, my beautiful girl.
She had been slowing down for some time, appeared okay Tuesday but was extremely lethargic Wednesday and refused any feed or treats.
She didn't get out of the coop when I opened it in the morning. So I lifted her out and put her in the run where she could feel the sun on her feathers. When I knelt down beside her once, I heard her making the purring sound that some hens make when they are happy. So, I think she appreciated getting moved outdoors.
Her death then wasn't unexpected; I was more surprised that she was still alive at dinner time last night.
And, then again, I wasn't. She was one tough girl. Honey was the only survivor of a mink attack that killed three coop mates, recovered from some nasty bumblefoot and was still the backyard queen, despite some apparent arthritis. Her ailments resulted in an odd gait, where she threw her feet forward, well ahead of her legs and body. But she could still throw down with any other chicken who dared to challenge her.
Once she settled down a bit from the mink incident, I let her choose her new roommates from among the existing coops, and she decided she would like to live with a pair of Salmon Faverolles and a Blue Laced Red Wyandotte. As she was clearly in decline yesterday, they all took turns sitting down beside her. It was heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time.
Honey loved grapes. All the chickens come running when I yell, "Grapes," but Honey and I had a secret code the others didn't know. "Where's my fine hen?" I would ask, and she would be first in line for treats.
She was already laying when I got her from a 4-H'er so I don't know exactly how old she was, but she lived with me for almost 8 years. I know she had a good run, but I would have kept her alive forever if I could have.
I am grateful that she's not suffering and that she will not have to live through another frigid winter. Rest in peace, my beautiful girl.
so sorry! RIP Honey, you were a very special girl!
I am sure she will always be at your side in spirit. ❤
