It is with heavy heart that I announce the passing of the first of our chickens. Goldie was the middle sized Buff Orpington. In the past seven months she has filled our lives with much joy and the lightest of brown eggs. She has only been gone a few hours and she is already missed terribly.
I don’t know what happened. I came home from work yesterday and she ran to the car to meet me. She, and all of the other girls, were in fine spirits. I rubbed them and let them pick at my buttons and my ring. Everything seemed fine. Just another day.
Imagine my surprise when I went to the coop this afternoon and found her dead, cold and stiff just inside the door of the coop. She had no signs of trauma. I felt her tummy closely and she did not appear to be egg bound. It appears that she just decided to die last night.
If any of you have experienced anything like this I would love to hear from you. My internet searches reveal that this is unfortunately not a rare occurrence. However, my common sense tells me that nothing “just dies”. There has to be a reason.
Tonight the remaining five girls got a more thorough rub down/examination. I do not want to lose another one. For those of you that have raised chickens from hatchlings to full grown hens you know how attached you become to them. While I realize I was not as attached to her as say a dog, I was attached nonetheless. Her passing has left me feeling a little blue on the last day of the year.
We wrapped her in a pillow case and entered her body in a lovely spot that has a view of the lake, the coop and her friends. I am sure hers will be the first grave in what will eventually become our pet cemetery.
Rest in Peace Goldie. You were a great little hen.