Once upon a time, a little Silver Sebrite chick who would be named Willie was given up by her mother at a "too early" age. Because of this and the fact that the other chickens tried to kill her, Willie had to sleep in my mother's dining room in her own box. After about a year, Willie decided that she wanted to set on eggs to hatch: eggs that were unfertile. After the appropriate time had passed for those eggs to have hatched, we were forced to buy a couple of chicks at the local farm store. My daughter & I took two of her eggs, blew out the yokes then gently smashed the shells. Willie had been going outside about every 3 or 4 days so on this day I took her out to have a talk with her.
While Willie & I were on the porch, my daughter had slipped those baby chicks into the nest box that was inside Willie's bigger box. Bits of egg shells were placed on the babies' heads. Willie ran back to her box, anxious to get back to those eggs. She perched on the edged of the bigger box and peered down at two babies! Talk about a surprised look on a chicken's face. Willie always considered those babies hers and after Sammie, the gray chick turned out to be a rooster he needed to sleep by himself. But Willie & Deanie were inseparable. Willie, who was tiny, groomed Deanie's feathers. And it didn't matter that Deanie was bigger... she knew who was boss and knew that she shouldn't mess with her mommy.
For over 5 years, Deanie and her adopted mother Willie spent their days in an outside pen and chicken house then would come into my mother's house to watch TV, eat canned corn and Little Debbie Brownies. Willie is very vane and requires a mirror to sit in front of in the dining room. Deanie would lay in the floor, either by the mirror or wherever she chose. Deanie was a very loveable pet and even though she acted like she didn't like it, I gave her kisses every morning.
On the morning of Feb 7, I found Deanie in her box dead. I don't believe she died of natural causes but that's something that I'll never know. My husband dug her grave, knowing how attached I am to my chickens. Her adopted mother Willie is still trying to find her and that in itself breaks my heart.
If anyone has ever had a pet to die, then they might understand the pain I am going through right now.
While Willie & I were on the porch, my daughter had slipped those baby chicks into the nest box that was inside Willie's bigger box. Bits of egg shells were placed on the babies' heads. Willie ran back to her box, anxious to get back to those eggs. She perched on the edged of the bigger box and peered down at two babies! Talk about a surprised look on a chicken's face. Willie always considered those babies hers and after Sammie, the gray chick turned out to be a rooster he needed to sleep by himself. But Willie & Deanie were inseparable. Willie, who was tiny, groomed Deanie's feathers. And it didn't matter that Deanie was bigger... she knew who was boss and knew that she shouldn't mess with her mommy.
For over 5 years, Deanie and her adopted mother Willie spent their days in an outside pen and chicken house then would come into my mother's house to watch TV, eat canned corn and Little Debbie Brownies. Willie is very vane and requires a mirror to sit in front of in the dining room. Deanie would lay in the floor, either by the mirror or wherever she chose. Deanie was a very loveable pet and even though she acted like she didn't like it, I gave her kisses every morning.
On the morning of Feb 7, I found Deanie in her box dead. I don't believe she died of natural causes but that's something that I'll never know. My husband dug her grave, knowing how attached I am to my chickens. Her adopted mother Willie is still trying to find her and that in itself breaks my heart.
If anyone has ever had a pet to die, then they might understand the pain I am going through right now.
Once upon a time, a little Silver Sebrite chick who would be named Willie was given up by her mother at a "too early" age. Because of this and the fact that the other chickens tried to kill her, Willie had to sleep in my mother's dining room in her own box. After about a year, Willie decided that she wanted to set on eggs to hatch: eggs that were unfertile. After the appropriate time had passed for those eggs to have hatched, we were forced to buy a couple of chicks at the local farm store. My daughter & I took two of her eggs, blew out the yokes then gently smashed the shells. Willie had been going outside about every 3 or 4 days so on this day I took her out to have a talk with her.
While Willie & I were on the porch, my daughter had slipped those baby chicks into the nest box that was inside Willie's bigger box. Bits of egg shells were placed on the babies' heads. Willie ran back to her box, anxious to get back to those eggs. She perched on the edged of the bigger box and peered down at two babies! Talk about a surprised look on a chicken's face. Willie always considered those babies hers and after Sammie, the gray chick turned out to be a rooster he needed to sleep by himself. But Willie & Deanie were inseparable. Willie, who was tiny, groomed Deanie's feathers. And it didn't matter that Deanie was bigger... she knew who was boss and knew that she shouldn't mess with her mommy.
For over 5 years, Deanie and her adopted mother Willie spent their days in an outside pen and chicken house then would come into my mother's house to watch TV, eat canned corn and Little Debbie Brownies. Willie is very vane and requires a mirror to sit in front of in the dining room. Deanie would lay in the floor, either by the mirror or wherever she chose. Deanie was a very loveable pet and even though she acted like she didn't like it, I gave her kisses every morning.
On the morning of Feb 7, I found Deanie in her box dead. I don't believe she died of natural causes but that's something that I'll never know. My husband dug her grave, knowing how attached I am to my chickens. Her adopted mother Willie is still trying to find her and that in itself breaks my heart.
If anyone has ever had a pet to die, then they might understand the pain I am going through right now.
While Willie & I were on the porch, my daughter had slipped those baby chicks into the nest box that was inside Willie's bigger box. Bits of egg shells were placed on the babies' heads. Willie ran back to her box, anxious to get back to those eggs. She perched on the edged of the bigger box and peered down at two babies! Talk about a surprised look on a chicken's face. Willie always considered those babies hers and after Sammie, the gray chick turned out to be a rooster he needed to sleep by himself. But Willie & Deanie were inseparable. Willie, who was tiny, groomed Deanie's feathers. And it didn't matter that Deanie was bigger... she knew who was boss and knew that she shouldn't mess with her mommy.
For over 5 years, Deanie and her adopted mother Willie spent their days in an outside pen and chicken house then would come into my mother's house to watch TV, eat canned corn and Little Debbie Brownies. Willie is very vane and requires a mirror to sit in front of in the dining room. Deanie would lay in the floor, either by the mirror or wherever she chose. Deanie was a very loveable pet and even though she acted like she didn't like it, I gave her kisses every morning.
On the morning of Feb 7, I found Deanie in her box dead. I don't believe she died of natural causes but that's something that I'll never know. My husband dug her grave, knowing how attached I am to my chickens. Her adopted mother Willie is still trying to find her and that in itself breaks my heart.
If anyone has ever had a pet to die, then they might understand the pain I am going through right now.
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