While the East Coast deals with Hurricane Irene today, we are enjoying some rather spectacular weather here in Seattle. It's been a bit of a sad day, however, because this morning we lost our first chicken.
Mingo -- or, more properly, Flamingo -- was part of the second pair of chickens we got. (The two original chickens were part of the package deal that came with the coop when we bought it.)
She was always a little bit different than the other chickens, including having some odd feet that didn't have any claws. This made it harder for her to sit on a perch and sleep with the other chickens. She also went through a few weeks of brooding not too long ago.
For those of you like me who had never heard of this term before, brooding is when a hen stays in her nesting box. Sometimes it's because she wants to sit on an egg, but not necessarily. In the case of Mingo, she didn't have an egg, but just spent most of her time in the nesting box. Brooding is normal behavior for a chicken, but in hindsight, maybe there was something else going on.
Anyhow, KLC and I noticed that something wasn't right with Mingo on Friday night when she was sitting on the ground at dusk. (For the non-chicken people out there, they will instinctively go inside as it gets close to being dark.) Yesterday, she was acting very lethargic and barely reacted when we picked her up. We put her in the yard and let her wander as much as she wanted. Sadly, she barely moved, though she did stand up for a while.
This morning, we found Mingo in the coop. We explained to the kids that she died, which led to a bunch of questions about death in general -- not the most light-hearted way to start a Sunday morning. Of course, this is what happens when you have animals, and, as we explained to the kids, chickens often don't live that long.
So thanks, Mingo, for being a good chicken -- wherever you are.
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