Henny Penny

Henny Penny had been laying internally for some time. At first, we weren't sure what to do so we took the suggestion of a fellow chicken-raiser and gave her meds. This brought the swelling down and her spirits up. However, I think that it may have been a mistake in the long run because after a few short weeks of seeming happy she reverted right back to suffering. On Saturday we decided to put her down. It was really sad, but for the best. I have to say that I haven't really thought much of the other chicken, Sally, until that day. However, that morning she stayed with Henny Penny, laid down when Henny Penny laid down, and closed her eyes when Henny Penny closed her own. I don't know if she thought it was sleepy time or if she was being empathetic, but as Aaron and I sat and watched, it was nice that we could all be quiet for a little while together.

Henny Penny was a sweet, docile chicken that didn't mind being picked up, loved you for the treats you brought, was completely silent (a great quality for a city-chicken), and had a sense of humor that rivaled Matilda's. She showed bravery and strength through an attack on the coop and managed to survive and continue to lay eggs even though she sustained injuries. She enjoyed strolls around the yard, being sung to, and over-ripe blueberries. She was named not for the neurotic, apocalypse-obsessed chicken that thought the sky was falling, but after a character written by my own soul-sister, Beatrix Potter.

We buried her under the snowball bush in the backyard. She will be missed.