And So, It Ends

Having Chickens on three acres in the California canyons is not the same as having chickens in a beach city on a 3,600 square foot property. David had built a significantly smaller coop for the remaining three girls and we still had Beatrix and Peter (the rabbits who now lived in separate hutches) with us and of course, somehow they found each other and we lived through a few more Bunny “accidents”. Peter eventually died and was buried in the front yard.

My children’s middle school had a small teaching farm and I was thrilled to volunteer. I became good friends with the Science teacher, and we shared our love of all animals big and small. I gave him one of my chickens in exchange for one of his. It was all great up until he gave my son two Guinea pigs that turned out to be two PREGNANT Guinea pigs! It’s not as easy as one might think to re-home baby guinea pigs. Over the next year, I was constantly trying to keep my girls quiet (not an easy task) as to not bother the neighbors and quite frankly, having the coop now so close to my bedroom window, I really missed my weekend sleeping. Chickens do not sleep in because it’s a Saturday. Tensions were growing in the house as it was just so small. Along with my chickens, the other big love of our lives was our Great Dane Enzo. Enzo grew up with the chickens and the guinea pigs and the rabbits, and somewhere in the mix, I had rescued two cats, John and Abigale. I gave the pigs back to the farm along with Gigi and Meat. Momma was now ten years old. She was one of the first hens that we ever had, and she would be the last. One afternoon, sitting outside in the back, we noticed that Momma was struggling to breathe. She could hardly hold herself up. It was terribly sad. I took her from the coop and held her – she was dying. My husband was trying to think of the most human way to help her. This is where logic goes out the window!! We thought about ringing her neck but that seemed an awful death for a beloved member of the family. So, with that, my husband took her from me and directed me to go into the house and get a plastic bag - He would suffocate her. Not thinking straight and to myself, is he really going to do that?, I don't know... it feels wrong. I opened the back door to go and retrieve the plastic bag as instructed when Enzo excitedly bolted past me. He had ran over to where David was holding our hen (being playful) and with one loud cluck Momma passed. Enzo scared her to death. She was, of course, buried in the front yard. :)