One of my favorite chickens died recently and I am just getting over it enough to look at a picture of her without sobbing. She was the silliest most entertaining chicken I had ever met and I love her dearly. Then one night I saw her poop egg yolk. I thought that was ok because one of my chickens poops out unfinished eggs all the time and she was fine, so I let her be. Then the next day she was barely walking and pooping out more egg stuff. I brought her in and gave her a warm bath then left her in the care of my mother because I had to leave for a mision trip meeting. When I came back doofy was dead and all I could think was what if I had taken her in the moment I noticed her problem. If I had just brought her in when I first saw her poop egg then she might have had a chance, it's hard not to feel like its all your fault. In this thread I just want to honor her memory and share her many stories. this is doofy before we had problems with feather eating Doofy and the blackberry bush Doofy was a very funny little chicken, she was the flock weirdo. Whenever we took all the chickens for a walk around the yard you had to have 2 herders: one for doofy and one for the rest of the flock. Doofy never stayed with the group and always did her own thing. I remember one time when we had let all the chickens out and were trying to herd them back in the coop. Doofy decided to have none of it and we were having a devil of a time getting her to coperate. Then doofy bolted for the blackberry hedge that bordered our lawn. She had totaly disapeared and we spent the rest of the day listening for doofy and galoping of toewards any sound that might have been her. Finaly, we gave up aa it was pitch black outside, and I numbly watched TV trying not to think about never seeing doofy again. Then, the next morning, we heard a terrible squacking coming from the coop. We rushed to see what was the matter and sure enough, there was doofy standing on top of the coop roof squacking her brains out. Thats doofy for ya. we had a coop that its door had no ladder a few feet above the ground. the chickens could not figure out how to get up there by themselves, so we put an old lawn chair in front of it to help them out. the idea worked and the chickens could now go in and out of the coop. Exept now doofy had discovered "posing". Doofy would stand on top of the back of the chair and preen her feathers or simply take a pose that took her fancy. She loved her chair and and played on it every chance she got, thats doofy for ya. Doofy, I will always love you and you will live on in your stories.