Dear old Daisy is about ready to join her sister Scout in chicken heaven, so I brought Bridget over to say good bye. Bridget clucked softly a few times, then looked at me, and I saw the tears welling up in her eyes because she knew Daisy was dying. I stroked her gently and Bridget went under the horse trailer. I don't know if chickens really can cry, but to me, Bridget was crying. ETA: RIP Daisy. We love you so very much.