I'm pretty sad right now. My chickens just got taken away to their new home. It's better than the alternative of putting them all down but it was traumatizing for them and me and for Elvis.
Thinking about hearing them squawking in fear makes me choke up. And Elvis wouldn't come when I called him. He followed the cage all the out of the yard and nipped at Bertine's heels. He was trying to protect them. Or save them. I don't know but I know he didn't like what was happening.
I've been dreading this. I've had chickens for 10 years and some of my girls are old. The oldest one is about 6 years. I am a great chicken keeper. They get shredded carrots, apples and celery with cottage cheese and corn every morning. And fruit, ususally grapes, every afternoon. I let them roam the whole back yard which meant there was no grass left. They were never in a pen. They had a shed for a coop which gave them lots of room. They had two rain shelters. Yes, I totally spoiled them.
Chickens are really wonderful. Their feathers are softer than you might think and they make cooing sounds more than the cackling they are known for. They often squawk for a few minutes after laying an egg which I find fascinating. What evolutionary reason would cause them to do that? I've seen entries on discussion boards speculating about it but no one seems to know why.
I raised all my chickens from week-old chicks except four that I adopted. There are about six girls buried around the yard.
I haven't eaten store-bought eggs in a long time. I wonder if I'll notice the difference? I've got four left in the refrigerator. I remember eating the first egg from my hens years ago. The egg was so small. Tiny. But within a few months all my hens laid very large eggs. Bigger than large size store-bought ones.
Well, writing this has made me feel a little better. I'm hoping by now they are safe in a new coop and have settled in for the night. Bless them. May they live out their days finding bugs, eating grass and weeds to their hearts content.
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