Miss Jane Marple was the 3rd chicken I've lost since Sept. -- the first of the older girls. I cried more initially over the pullets the dog next door killed, but this one is getting me down a lot more. It's like the thing I've counted on for encouragement (my funny girls) is being taken away. No, I'm not really obsessed with them; they just have given me joy over the last couple weeks after the loss of my high-school BFF. You all are the only folks who'll understand.