Last evening I headed out to the chonkey area for the final evening lock-up. After throwing a last flake of hay to the donks I headed to the coop to close the little doors against predators.
The scene before me -- Etta James was lying dead on the floor.
I was stunned and just stared at the scene for several minutes. The other girls were in bed and softly chirping.
I had brought all the girls in from free-range time that afternoon about 3:00. Nothing appeared wrong, everyone behaved normally.
What the bloody heck happened?
Etta (black) in rear
I am so sorry that you lost your feathered friend. I do so enjoy your stories about all your animals.
ReplyDeleteTake Care,
Kaye
Thank you, Kaye
DeleteOh, I'm so sorry. So hard to understand when things like that happen. She looks so big and healthy. I love the names you pick for the girls.
ReplyDeleteThanks Melba.
DeleteOh no poor Etta and poor you....what a shock!! Another chicken mystery. Sending love and hugs from Cheshire.
ReplyDelete