I have this sweet, frizzle rooster who was bullied by the other chickens. They ripped out his pretty, curly feathers. So, one month ago I brought him into the rehab center and placed him into the pen with my twisted neck rooster, and my big ol' girl who has a tumor on her comb that's blinded her. He's such a gentle boy, he didn't really spar with the other rooster he was penned with. The trio were friends. On Monday I had decided on to put him back into the bantam general population since his feathers had grown in. On Tuesday, some of his feathers were gone. He was hiding behind the nesting boxes where most of the weaker hens and roosters stay when they need a break. So, I thought "well, he'll be okay, he knows what to do." Wrong! Yesterday, my husband took care of the bantam area in the morning and my son at night, so I didn't enter the coop. This morning I entered the area to check on him and found him behind the nesting boxes, completely void of feathers and dead. He was still warm, so he had died within the last two hours upon finding him because rigor mortis hadn't set in. You know something? My husband questioned me when I placed him into population. I confidently said he would be fine. But the little voice inside of me doubted this and I reasoned he could always be removed again. I should've checked on him yesterday evening. He would have been alive today. This is entirely my fault and I feel terrible. I feel neglectful. Always listen to the little voice...especially when it involves those that you love.