There will be no more chicken jokes.
For there are no more chickens.
I have a horribly sick feeling in my stomach, having to write this.
Our feathered ladies are gone.
Killed and scattered by some roaming beast.
I have spent the day torturing myself with thoughts of how scared they must have been.
A very kind friend has gathered their remains and put them all in a box to be buried.
I don’t know if I can look in the box.
Yes they were chickens, livestock, birds.
But they were our pets and we doted on them.
We loved Agnes and her feisty, bossy attitude.
We loved Lola’s boastful crowing over each and every egg she popped out.
We loved Betty’s doddering, confused mothering of her chicks.
We loved Mrs Poulawitska’s uncoordinated dashing about and her secretive egg laying.
We cannot wait for Agnes any longer.
Good bye feathered ladies.