Memorials

I had a special white silkie that I hatched. She was a sweetheart. Her brooder was next to my bed and when I woke up she was next to me ever morning. I left for work at 5:20pm as usual. My mom got to my work at 1am when it was time to pick me up. She said "stevie I got something to tell you." I said "what is it?" She said robert "her boyfriend" got home and heard a fight in the house. He opened the door and saw that you white silkie hen was on the floor dead. I cried all the way hoe and when I got home I just sat in the middle of the road for about 15 minutes. Luckly there was no traffic. I was so weak to get up I was just so devastated. We put her in the ground next to my moms cat.

Last week my moms barred rock roo passed away of a unknown death.
 
Steve, that is awful, was it your mom's cat that killed it and someone did away with her cat??? Bad for both of you if that happened. If it wasn't her cat then what killed your silkie???
 
my moms cat had a hole in her leg and dont know how it happened. By the time we cleaned her up to go to the vet she passed away.

the silkie was killed by one of our dogs. now we have an extra secure cage that the dogs cant get in to
 
I just re-read and caught up with this thread.
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Lil Dude. Killed by a hawk who followed him into the barn! May you rest in peace. You can be with Squeak and Star now.

We will miss you.

2005- 2008.
 
I need to tell you about the coolest chicken I have had. Her name was Wilma and I raised her from chickhood. She was my only leghorn and I have never met an animal with more personality. She was hyper and crazy and she was truely my friend. She went broody (wich I am told is rare for leghorns) and she stopped eating and would not get off the nest. (I do not have a rooster so there would be no little chickies.) I, in my stupid wisdom decided to put her in a separate enclosure to break her, because the other girls were picking on her and she was getting bloodied. A predator dug underneath my tractor that she was in, and took her. My heart was broken, and I know it was all my fault. I should have made sure she was more secure, or I should have never taken her out of the coop. I miss you Wilma my little spaz!!! I never found her body. The guilt is incredible. Here is a pic to give you the idea of her wacky personality (she gave me double yolkers ALL the time).
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Love you.
 
I lost my 4 year old Muscovy Duck Lucy , 10-31-06. I still think about her almost daily, especially as I still have her sister Ethel . Lucy was like a dog. She followed me, wagged her tail to greet me. I tucked her in each night and said a special good night. That fatal morning I went out to let all my girls out of their coops. I saw Lucy huddled by a coop door and I thought "OMG I forgot to lock her up". I never have forgotten to lock up my girls but must have. As I approached her I saw her back was shredded and bloody. I rushed her to emergency vet and eventually she had to be put down due to a raccoon attack. I could not even be in with her in final moments because the guilt and shame I felt for leaving her out. I sobbed in the waiting room. I couldnt forgive myself. The vet tech came out and said it took Lucy a while to go under, she had a strong spirit and must of loved me because she didnt want to go. I carried her body home and buried her when the ground thawed enough. Later that day I opened the coop and saw torn wire and bloody feathers inside the coop....I hadnt forgotten to lock her up!!!....a coon broke in,,,,, I was relieved but now a different kind of guilt..if I would have known I didnt leave her out, I could have been with her in her passing. To some she was just a duck, to me she was a friend, companion and I will never forget Lucy.

Thanks for letting me share..most people just dont understand how I can love duck, but I know you on this board can understand the love we have for our feathered babies.
 
I had a really nice bay gelding we'd raised from a colt. He was two, and I was in 4-H taking second on him. Right after the season, he got colic, and the vets said there was nothing they could do when they did the surgery. We had to put him down. He was only two years old, and I'd lost my other horse a month earlier. We had some bad luck... He was beautiful.
 
I have to add to Lil Dude's, cause he deserves it...he was the champion runner-up in the Hartford Fair here (the biggest independant fair in the world) crowing contest. (Our Checker roo was champion); he was the best roo ever taking care of his hens and when his last hen of two was killed by a hawk last winter, he mourned for her for weeks; sulked and wouldn't crow; he was just starting to make friends with some of the new chickens we had just bought, and was starting to crow again; and was happy. We had a lot of fun with him.
 
We got Moppit from an Amish auction, the first one I ever attended. As soon as I saw her, I knew she had to come home with us. For the first few months we thought she acted a bit odd; she was OK at first, but as time went on she would crash to the ground when she wanted to lie down, and just acted a little clumsy.Though we thought she was a bit odd, we never knew there was anything really wrong with her for a long time. You could always tell her voice from everyone else's in the barn; she had a weird way of bawking that was just different; one night I thought I heard her in my sleep and it actually woke me up; I knew I couldn't have heard her all the way out in the barn, but it was a weird thing; when I woke up I felt like she was calling for help. She spent most of her time trying to make friends with the others, although they picked on her. One day she wandered into Fuego roo's pen, and she and he became friends; he would try to protect her from the others. As time went on she mysteriously deteriorated and had neurological and later respiratory symptoms, and lost more weight, and we had to separate her from her friend. She would try to peck the grass or eat and end up doing a somersault. I was touched by her spirit because regardless she always seemed happy to see us, enjoyed eating and spending time in the sun, always trying to talk to her flockmates through the bars of her pen, and, up until the last couple of weeks, she would bawk-bawk whenever she heard someone come in the barn. We spent hours doing research, trying to save her, helping her walk, force feeding with a dropper and later a feeding tube, vitamins, deworming, just holding her, trying everything we could think of even though eventually we knew we should probably put her to sleep. When we finally took her to the vet, supposedly to put her to sleep, I ended up spending money to try to save her instead. It was no use, she died next day. I felt incredibly selfish and guilty that we let her continue on so long. We never found out what was wrong with her. If nothing else, though, we did learn a lot more about poultry diseases, illnesses, and veterinary care while we were treating her, that we might be able to use to treat one of the others some day. Here is her picture shortly before she died; it doesn't do her justice; she was bright black and white with little diamonds of iridescence in her feathers and you had to look hard to see her eyes...

RIP, little Miss Moppit...we miss you.

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