A dog friggin' got into our yard and killed ALL seven of my chickens.
I guess I couldn't be a farmer because I hate this. I am so sad. They were just birds, and they crap all over the place and they don't really love me back or anything, but I loved them. I loved when I 'd pick them up and feel their soft feathers under my fingers. I loved the noise they made when I came outside and the way they'd all roost on the roof of their coop.
I wouldn't feel so bad if they weren't simply ripped apart for sport by my piece-of-shit-neighbors dog. I found one of them- buried completely in the dirt except for one foot. The other was strewn in said neighbors yard. I never found the 5 others except for a bunch of white feathers from my white Silkie, Luna. My yard is covered in feathers and dog prints. I still kinda hope the rest are out there, but, they can't make it outside in the mountains like this for very long, if the dog didn't get them, a fox or bobcat would have.
Goodbye Luna, Ginny, Hermione, Myrtle, Molly, Brietta, and Henrietta.
I am so sorry about all of this. I pray that everything works out and that dog goes away. love you, friend.
ReplyDeleteThanks. I am usually fairly detached form animals. I can switch the love right off and move on, but for some reason, I'm struggling over these confounded birds. Weird. I think it's some sort of symbolism for me or something.
ReplyDelete