Chicken math
I did a little poultry math last night. I’ve been keeping chickens for ten years and I’ve had twenty chickens, eight of whom are still with us.
Four vanished without a trace. Three found dead in the run of a morning. Three died after a short illness. One died of violence, very likely at the beaks of her fellow chickens. One had a sort of chicken stroke and I had the vet put her down.
That’s her in the picture: Mapp, my very first chicken. Or second. I got two at once.
Mapp was a terrific chicken and lived to the ripe old age of eight, which is old for a bantam. I am prepared to put a suffering chicken down (though thank goodness I haven’t had to, yet), but I couldn’t do for old Mapp. I think the vet was surprised to be asked to euthanize a chicken, but he did a swift and competent job.
Good old Mapp. She never walked, she ran. Laid a few eggs in Spring and then went hard broody all Summer.
Crazy bird.
May 19, 2020 — 8:15 pm
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