Yes, I know she was only a chicken, but it’s sad nonetheless. Barbara, our white Sussex Ranger died on Friday morning in the coop, after we think, a short-ish illness. Apparently, all the signs were there (dirty back-end, pale-coloured comb), and the inevitable was, well, inevitable. I don’t think there’s much we could have done for her. We cleaned her up a few weeks ago, and thought we’d sorted out whatever the problem was, but obviously we hadn’t.
She went quietly, though, and looked much the same as she had done for the past few weeks, eyes closed and peacefully asleep. She’s been very quiet recently, seemingly spending most of the daylight hours asleep and resting away from our five other chickens, moving occasionally to peck at the scraps that were thrown in. On Friday, once she’d gone, I moved her to the greenhouse where she was collected by Vic (who was at the house with Andrew cutting a tree down), who disposed of her for us.
Gerry and Margot (who arrived with Barbara two years ago this coming August) seem fine, as do the newer three laying ladies. It’s strange not seeing a white bird in the coop, though. Barbara always let the world happen round her and whether the new arrivals stressed her out, we’ll never know. We do know that we’ve had five eggs a day for the past few weeks and we’re still getting the same number now; Barbara had obviously stopped laying some time ago.
Tags: Chicken-keeping, Journal