- May 11, 2010
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Always a sweet thing, she managed to stay out of trouble. She liked to pick at my big toe just to let me know she was there. She'd hop on the arm of the chair-or my arm- to say hello. At times she'd simply sit quietly with me and watch the other hens go about their business. She was such a funny broody. If her box had no eggs she'd find one that did and sit on those eggs. If I removed the eggs, she immediately jump in the next nest box and hunker down like she was invisible. Oh, how she fuzzed up when I picked her up. She'd never strike though as she'd be searching for eggs I might have missed. Once, she sat on the bowl of eggs I left temporarily on the floor while I investigated a ruckus outside of the coop.
Once her broody phase passed, Marie was again out with the flock. And our morning routine was back to normal. I sat quietly in my chair, thinking of things I had to do. As usual, Askew claimed lap privileges, and was the Queen of the Lap. Cardboard Chicken sat on my feet. Marie was on the arm of the chair looking calmly about.
Then she talked to Askew who amazingly hopped to the ground. Cardboard clucked in concern but did not give up her position. Marie was now Queen of the Lap. She clucked softly and pecked at my shirt a few times. She yawned and began preening herself. She talked the entire time. Then she sat quietly licking her beak until her eyes closed. My thoughts drifted around the rising sun. A minute or two later, maybe longer, I saw Askew staring intently at me.
"Marie won't give your seat back, huh?" I looked at Marie who appeared very content.
Then I realized she was very quiet. Too quiet. Stunned, I looked intently for signs of breath. Nothing moved. I touched her comb which was changing hue. I put my fingers between her feathers and felt for a heartbeat. Nothing. Marie had passed quietly in my lap. Astonished, I waited for the numb feeling of helplessness to pass. I carried her away from her sisters, found the shovel, and gave her the dignity of being buried.
I miss my little Marie.
Once her broody phase passed, Marie was again out with the flock. And our morning routine was back to normal. I sat quietly in my chair, thinking of things I had to do. As usual, Askew claimed lap privileges, and was the Queen of the Lap. Cardboard Chicken sat on my feet. Marie was on the arm of the chair looking calmly about.
Then she talked to Askew who amazingly hopped to the ground. Cardboard clucked in concern but did not give up her position. Marie was now Queen of the Lap. She clucked softly and pecked at my shirt a few times. She yawned and began preening herself. She talked the entire time. Then she sat quietly licking her beak until her eyes closed. My thoughts drifted around the rising sun. A minute or two later, maybe longer, I saw Askew staring intently at me.
"Marie won't give your seat back, huh?" I looked at Marie who appeared very content.
Then I realized she was very quiet. Too quiet. Stunned, I looked intently for signs of breath. Nothing moved. I touched her comb which was changing hue. I put my fingers between her feathers and felt for a heartbeat. Nothing. Marie had passed quietly in my lap. Astonished, I waited for the numb feeling of helplessness to pass. I carried her away from her sisters, found the shovel, and gave her the dignity of being buried.
I miss my little Marie.
I am so sorry for your loss. It makes me want to cry just thinking about it. I have only been there once when a chick died, and it wasn't even alive long enough for me to attach to, and I was heartbroken. It is so hard being there when one passes.. At least I find it is.. Poor Marie..
