April 11: One Less Chicken

Checking for eggs this morning Strawberry Sally didn’t come running. I didn’t think anything of it until I saw her laying in the straw in an unusual place–a place the girls rarely sat to lay eggs. So I popped up the top of the coop and realized something was wrong.

Goldfish die. Dogs die. Chickens die. Grandparents die.

My son is grieving.

It hurts me to see him sad, but I’m also glad that he’s had other pets–and yes one grandparent die already, so he knows how to grieve.

In memorial to our gorgeous friendly chicken pet, Strawberry Sally.

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