This month can be summed up in one word: Betty.
One morning, while carrying out our daily chores, we realized that the chickens had been infiltrated by a predator. Upon further examination, we discovered that we had tragically lost one chicken, while another had been wounded around her neck. The others were pecking at her, so we decided to separate her until she fully healed. We brought her up to the house, and that’s when the legend of Betty was born.
She was badly injured, so we sprayed her wounds and made her a comfortable box in our living room for her to rest. At first, she wouldn’t move, so we didn’t bother putting wire on top of the box. We went to dinner and came back to check on her, only to find her perched on our lamp.
Betty gradually regained her strength. When we tried to reintroduce her to the flock, they weren’t kind to her. We brought her back to the house, and she lived in our shed for a while. What followed were weeks of unforgettable times with Betty. She became like a dog to us. She would ride with us to see the other animals and follow me around everywhere. It was an interesting and joyful time.
But all good things must come to an end. Eventually, Betty became a free bird, roaming our front yard all day. One morning, I walked outside and saw feathers scattered around. I knew something was wrong. Our sweet Betty had once again come face-to-face with a predator, and this time, she wasn’t so lucky.
Thank you for the good times, Betty. You will be missed. We’ve since improved the structural integrity of our coop to ensure this will never happen again.
-Wick
