I don't really grieve birds. Not at all, in fact. A special bird here or there I will really miss, but I don't become emotionally moved. I think perhaps it's because after having lost loved ones in the family, I can't give that kind of emotion for a bird. That's not to say I don't feel the loss. That's not to say I don't feel badly for the bird, especially a bird that has been good to my family providing eggs, entertainment and the joy of life to our place. I especially feel for the bird that was torn and shredded to pieces by a dog's teeth, or in this case the teeth of two dogs. I just lost all my cuckoo Marans hens, an EE rooster, and my ugly Wellie Rooster, that I desperately want to replace, lives but is almost naked. I heard the last cuckoo Marans hen screaming and crying, I was able to get to her in time to see a short little dog tearing her to pieces. And then I saw another little dog chasing another bird. It took my daughter and I, along with the dogs' owner 30 minutes to get his dogs. The owner, and older man -- a very older man -- was really torn up about it. He was shaking. These little dogs have become his companions since his wife died, and they got loose. God bless this man, he was trying to run after his dogs. My daughter finally got them. He offered to pay me, but I refused. I did ask him to put down the last cuckoo hen. She was stoic, but it would have cruel to try to "save" her. Most of her skin was off. Well, this is part of keeping birds. Joys and disappointments. I know the man was sorry. He was more upset than me, honestly. I don't want a gang-up session on this man, or the little dogs that got away from him. I just felt like sharing -- releasing -- my loss. I did say a few kind words of apology and gratitude to the hen before I sent her off with the man. (I told him he was welcome to eat her. No reason to waste the meat.) Done venting. My daughter and I are going out for dinner now.