The dark covers me and I cannot run now

Let’s get this out of the way immediately: this morning I woke up to GRISLY CHICKEN DEATH. Zsa Zsa, JWOWW, and So-and-So the Easter Egger got the axe. I locked them up at dusk last night and it was quiet outside and they were burbling in their house and everything seemed well. There was a lot of noise at 5 a.m. but I didn’t think much of it. Sometimes they get noisy when the sun comes up. I came out at 6:30 to let them out (I surrender, I am a morning person now, yes I hate myself appropriately) and the first thing I saw was feathers under the coop. Too many feathers. There were three broken and gutted little bodies around the backyard. One of the raccoons had eaten the eggs out of Zsa Zsa’s body, which just made me furious, really.

I walked to the corner of the yard and old lady Veronica was hiding behind the shed, standing upright and eying me warily. A feather was stuck to her head and at first I was afraid that her eye had been poked or something, but she was just sticky. I let her be since I figured she’d get it off herself, and also because after what she witnessed she is probably now Chicken Dexter Morgan and I didn’t want to get too close.

Watching her stand there made me feel really sad. I surveyed the little piles where the raccoons had left the girls laying around the yard half eaten and all I could think of was how scared they must have been in the dark and how terrible I was to have shut the door too early and locked them out. It’s like a horror movie when the door closes too soon and you watch your friend get torn apart by zombies/tentacles/LaRouchies through the porthole. I cried–I couldn’t help it.

The thing about chicken deaths is that I don’t really bond with them the way I do with my cats and now the dog, but they are trusting and defenseless and just kind of generally good animals, I believe. I know chickens peck each other and sometimes they eat eggs and they are stupid, but after ten years I feel that most problems can be prevented with proper conditions and control. You can steer them like a waterway and they do good work for you. And I had let them down.

Once the bodies were cleaned up I opened their door to check on the remaining hens. No one came forward, and normally they burst out like they have been shot from an extremely short range cannon.

“Girls?” I stuck my head in. There was an egg open on the coop floor and Silver Belle’s beak was wet. That was weird. They rarely break their own eggs. I walked around back and the back egg hatch was open. Strudel had done her egg duty yesterday and had left it open.

I was still crying when I came into the house and I sat on the couch. Frannie came upstairs and it’s extremely rare but I feel bad when the first thing the girls see in the morning is me bawling like a big soppy muffin. I told Frannie what went down and she hugged me while I sniffled and felt terrible. After a couple of minutes on the couch, we heard Strudel’s door open and Frannie went down to fill her in on the news.

When Strudel came upstairs she looked stunned. Strudel always has strong notions about justice and responsibility, and spent a few months asking me hard questions about things like police justice and morality. I have NO IDEA what she is going to turn into when she grows up. For a long time the people who were most responsible for breaking and taking things in my house were Not Me and Must’ve Have Been My Sister, but lately she has been coming forward more and talking about how she could handle things better the next time. What a fucking relief.

“I’m sad about the chickens,” she said.

“Yeah. Thanks. Me too,” I said. I waited for her wheels to turn to where I knew they would go next.

“Did someone leave the door open?” she asked, gently.

“Yes,” I said. “The egg door was left open on the back of the house.”

I watched her face flicker through several changes before the needle got stuck on, “Oh shit, this is my fault.”

“Sorry, Mom,” she said, almost inaudibly.

“Thanks for saying that.”

I got a note on a sugar packet.

Today is the last day of first and sixth grades. She was a very quiet cricket on Wednesday.

Horace vs. Mere and Goethe

He is SO LUCKY they humor him.

Tart, melon, and guac.

Cherry Cheese Tart for Father's Day

Oh god please may I have some please

Noooo you may not.

Sunday morning

L-R: Zsa Zsa, Death Ray, and Veronica. I cannot believe I still have two of my original gangsta chickens. Veronica is the yellow ball of fuzz in the tank. Also, R.I.P Calliope and a barred cochin that ended up being a rooster. I got Death Ray later that summer.

It’s eggy up in myah. Planted lemon cucumbers, crookneck squash, and some green cucumber today, so the garden is DONE, dude. There are shelling peas and tomatoes. I’m sorry I didn’t find my camera before the crimson clover was turfed under. It was made of bees! Half the garden is given over to sunflowers and native-type bee-friendly flowers. It’s not as bananas this year because it looks like I’m moving in the fall. When I am in the new place I want to build bee hotels.

Spaniels are born to look sad.

“I’m not sure what lobsters eat, but I think they eat like insects or something… so I was gonna feed them worms.”

Snooki, you SCAMP!

I thought she was a Jersey Giant hen, but I noticed she was not…engiantening. Regular readers may recall that one of the beeps I ordered dropped dead the next day, and I was NOT going to call up the hatchery and demand another because I was afraid of MOAR Males Included for Warmth. I was pretty convinced it was the lone Australorp.

I started thinking about it more, though, and looking at pictures online. What is the difference between an Australorp and a black Jersey giant? Well, Australorps have white underfoots, and Jersey Giants have yellow. I followed her around the yard today because she is not quite squatting yet, and there the undersides of her feet flashed at me as she hustled away–white!

Ask An Asshole: Can I Be Good Chicken Mom?

I get asked about chickens from time to time, which I enjoy. Am I an expert? Noooo, but I have been backyard chickening since 2002. Can you get this information elsewhere? Probably, but maybe not quite in this form. Here are recent chicken questions from a reader and chicken advice, reprinted with the asker’s permission and edited to protect the guilty and the innocent. This is long, sorry RSSers. Would it kill me to put a cut in? A: Yes, yes it would.


Dear SJ,

I’m writing because you are my guru on all things chicken-related and I sort of got this urge to get me some chickens for my backyard. Ok, here’s how it went down: I was being generally bored and boring and thought to myself “hey, I have a house with a huge backyard…I should get some veggies and plant them, and maybe some herbs, and ooooh, CHICKENS!!” So I started looking online and everyone’s all “chickens are awesome! They are easy to take care of! They are great pets!” and that may be true, but I’m sure that’s not the whole story and I know you’ll tell me the real deal.

I don’t want to be a bad chicken mom. This is my current situation, please let me know the realities of chicken-owning and if you think this is a good idea: I have a one-story house (that I own) in [SoCal] on a quiet cul-de-sac. I have a huge backyard (not farm sized, but big), but it is currently all tiny rocks and large ugly shrubs I plan to get rid of (and a patio with a bbq). There are animals, such as giant raccoons and cats and such, that live in my area and come in my backyard. There is an apartment complex with a pool next door to my yard. I have two VERY small dogs who spend all their time indoors unless I’m walking them. I do not have a pool. I work full-time and there is no one home all day. I travel occasionally, but have someone house sit when I do. So tell me, is this a good idea? How much maintenance is there REALLY? How expensive is this? What are the drawbacks and advantages to having your own chickens (for eggs, not food)? Do they bite? Get sick a lot? Get eaten? Need lots of vet attention? How easy is it to get food and supplies? How much do they cost? Will my neighbors hate me?
If you’re over talking about chickens, I totally understand. I’d appreciate any resources you have so I can research further. You are my first stop (and first choice) for info, so sorry if my questions seem pedestrian.

Thank you for reading!

–Future Chicken Mom?


Dear Future Chicken Mom,

The real scoop on chickens! Yes, I think you can do it. I will address the specifics of what you asked me. The following is my opinion and based on my amateur experiences raising chickens.

Location: Your weather is very good for chickens and you won’t have any snow/cold problems, and the light means they will probably lay more and through the winter. This is good. If the backyard fence is normal size, meaning 4′-5′ or higher, and the space is large, most chickens will not want to roam. Why would they? They have it all: food, shelter, water, bugs to peck, etc. You can help with this by choosing docile, non “flighty” breeds. A good book or site will talk about how flighty/people shy each breed is (or is not). Also, chickens really want to hang together and make a flock. This also keeps them from wanting to run off. Mine call to each other when they are “lost” (alone).

Neighbors: I go for forgiveness rather than permission in most cases, as long as I am adhering to the law. Chickens (as in, not roosters) are generally pretty quiet. Mine cackle around ten a.m. or so, when they are laying, which is a time when people are awake or gone. See what your local laws are as far as number limits, coop distances from dwellings, etc. Perhaps do a quick google for “Your city+chickens+noise complaints” and see if anything turns up and how it’s handled. Neighbors, if you know them, are often amused (NOT ALWAYS, THOUGH) by chickens and excited to get the gift of backyard-fresh eggs every so often, which greases the wheels very well.

Predators: Enclosures are kind of like birth control. 99% of the time if used properly, you will not have problems. Chickens may still escape and predators may still get in sometimes, despite your best planning/building. My biggest problem with raccoons was at dusk or night, if I was late shutting the coop door, or if I forgot. The results–sometimes a dead chicken–was sufficiently traumatic to make me straighten up and do better. I do not have an enclosed run, but some people swear by them. Enclosures are nice to fall back on for certain occasions–what if a pipe bursts (knock wood) and you have workers in and out of your yard all day? What if you are having a barbecue and you don’t want Bessie hopping up on a patio table and taking a munch out of a drummy from one of her chickeny cousins? This has happened to me, and I wanted to die. I have NEVER had problems with cats. My kittens chase them a bit, but cats are pretty cowed by the BOCK BOCK feather poofing. I have had problems with large dogs in the old days, jumping their fences and running into my yard. My yard nowadays is very secure and dogs can only look on from the alley. You know your dogs best–if they will menace or just enjoy the show.

There’s a couple of common sense things that help with predators. If it IS dark when you go out there, take a flashlight to make sure you are not locking up a predator WITH your hens. Do not build under a dense tree or near dense bushes, especially if they have connections to other trees or structures near your yard (raccoons travel on these routes). Lock food up at night, or if it’s in a run, keep it out of reach of greedy little raccoon arms. Storing food outdoors is fine, but make sure it’s rat proof. I use a small metal trash can with a snug lid.

Your schedule: Pullets and chickens do not need or want babysitting. They will be fine all day on their own, pooping and trying to find a way to get at your herbs.

The real story on the time sink: Assuming you have a coop and no enclosure, the two times a day when chickens need you, EVERY DAY, is in the morning to be let out, pretty early, like shortly after sunrise. It is okay to go back to bed yourself, heh. They can wait longer, but I figure it’s humane since they rise and sleep with the sun. At dusk/dark when they march into their house you will need to lock up after them as well. If you have a fully enclosed pen (meaning the “roof” is fenced in as well) with a coop inside, you can probably leave the coop door open most nights, but expect to check on them 2x a day for food, water, eggs, and to make sure they’re healthy. On a normal day, my chickens demand 5 minutes of my time. Seriously. I can give them more and talk to them and throw them worms when I’m weeding, or feed them treats, but minimum: five minutes, which is let out, check/fill feeder and waterer, check for eggs, and lock up at night. On the weekends I sweep out the wood chips and check their oyster shells bowl (necessary calcium boost for strong eggshells), and replace the chips–this is another 10-20 minutes.

Chickhood is more of a timesink. Until they are feathered out at 8 weeks, they will need closer tending. This time around I checked on my chicks 4-5 times a day at least in the first week or two, to make sure they had not done anything stupid and to make sure the heat source was groovy, etc. After that you can cut it back to about 3x a day. I also wanted to handle them A LOT so they would be more docile and interested in people. If you raise chicks, you may consider doing it when you have a break from work? However, I have raised chicks and held an office 9-5. They sleep a lot because they grow so fast. Just make sure without fail they have food and water all day.

Money: I built my coop and it cost about $150 all told. I could have gone cheaper, probably, or spent a lot more. I wanted a largish cube that would be easy to clean standing up and easy to collect eggs from, and it is. Now that Seattle chicken limits have gone up, I’m glad I built a 4’x4′ cube. You can also buy a coop from a site like Eglu or look for something local. I’ve seen people online who’ve modified a doghouse. Coops need to NOT be airtight (duh), be easy to clean, have perches, and have layer boxes. A 30#(I think) bag of layer feed with all my girls lasts me about 2 weeks, and it’s $10/bag. You can spend twice that if you want to go organic. With three chickens I think it lasted about 6 weeks. I also buy oyster shells which are something like 35 cents a pound, and they eat them slowly. I don’t do “grit” or “scratch” since they are free range in a large yard, but that is also cheap. I also feed them veggie scraps and non-chicken meats. Make sure you can get feed and oyster shells nearby, always. Find out what day they get feed in. I get my feed from a “natural” local pet food store that saw a niche waiting to be filled. If you run out you can cheat it with some oatmeal (they love hot cereal) or some leftover chow mein in the short term.

Buying a pullet you can expect to pay anywhere from $10-$30 for a good healthy layer. Sadly, it is hard to tell by looking at some chicken that is posted on craigslist. Generally I prefer to raise from chicks. I am gung ho about buying them sexed and paid about $4 per to ship them from a hatchery, but the minimum order was 25 if I didn’t want roosters included. If you want to pick chicks up somewhere, look around for feed stores. I also bought a feeder and a waterer. There is a reason these feeder designs were invented and exist–minimal mess and waste. Yes, you can feed or water chickens with buckets or tupperware (I do sometimes when I am cleaning their waterer), but spend the $5-$15 and invest in a feeder and waterer. I got these from the feed store where I bought my first chicks.

Aggression: Cardinal rule–do not overcrowd. DO NOT OVERCROWD. They will turn on each other. Your yard sounds plenty big. I think the rule is 5 square feet per chicken, but I err on generous. This is another reason to haul ass out of bed in the morning and let them out, so they don’t start fighting for funsies. As I mentioned earlier, I choose chicken breeds based on their traits. Here is my criteria: 1. Aggressive or Docile? (an aggressive breed is VERY unlikely to “protect” the rest of the flock, she will only save herself!) 2. Flighty or homebody (a flighty bird may be a good layer but can hide all of her eggs!) 3. Decent Layer? (Your call what “enough” production is. I expect 3-4 eggs a week for my needs.) 4. Appearance. My chickens do not bite me or each other, but they do peck to keep “pecking order.” Biting/clawing is what I think of more as rooster behavior. Hens are straight up prey.

Sickness/other maintenance: Being a chicken is fairly nasty, brutish, and short. You hatch out of an egg, COOL! A few months later eggs are rocketing out of your butt, WTF?? Then a raccoon eats you, sad. I have heard of chickens living to six or more, but they are generally not laying at that point. I will be culling my old chickens at some point. I do not do vet visits, and I have not dealt with any sicknesses or even parasites. I try to go the preventive route–a healthy chickhood, clean food and water, lots of sunshine and fresh air. They are pretty simple creatures. Any decent chicken book should touch on what it looks like when THAT HEN AIN’T RIGHT. I’d say they have a higher mortality rate than your typical cat or dog (I do take mammals to the vet, your call if you want to go there with chickens), so be prepared for loss. I’ve not lost one since my most recent batch in 2008 (I lived in apartments from 04-06).

Resources: Up here we have “Tilths” or kind of urban gardening/farming clubs that provide resources, have plant sales, teach classes on chicken raising, and give referrals for more local organizations and information. I would tap into that community as much as you might need to. For general questions I use (and I have sold chickens on) Backyard Chickens. There are some brilliant, calm, sensible, knowledgeable people on there, and some SHOCKING jackasses who probably have to be reminded to breathe. And those people can keep chickens alive, so you can too! Seattle also has coop tours so you can rubberneck at what those who came before you have done.

I have Choosing and Keeping Chickens by Graham. It’s British, so you may feel some American breeds are missing, but it’s good. Chickens in Your Backyard (Luttman) is very popular, but I felt it was kind of incomplete somehow.

Is it worth it? Really, that’s up to you. There’s no crime against trying it out and deciding it’s not for you, or taking a break every now and then for a year or a couple of seasons (meaning all your chickens die peacefully in their sleep of old age to the melodic strains of harp music and you decide to take some time off). I love what they do for the yard–eat small weeds, keep the bugs down, munch the grass down, and make the grass REALLY green (I am not a lawn nut, but it’s a perk). I love that they eat the girls’ food waste and scraps, which feels like a win. They are curious and funny to watch. I think of them as a hobby that results in a lot of pleasure and not much real gain, but the eggs are delicious. On the backyard scale, I think you may look at breaking even eventually, but I think that’s not the point for most people.

Here’s a few questions you should ask yourself, and these are just food for thought: If something happened to one of your hens and it was in obvious, irreparable, broken/bloody misery, could you bring yourself to have mercy on it and put it down? Despite your best efforts, you may also get a chicken that is an aggressive pecker, or a sad pariah chicken, or an egg eater. Can you get rid of these chickens? If all your chickens turn 5 and the eggwell dries up, could you cull them, or would you want to? Do you travel, and if so, could you find someone to care for your chickens (Housesitters generally do fine)? If you accidentally got a rooster, could you turn it into soup or is there a resource to rehome him? If there are spots in your yard that the chickens are targeting (and eating/ruining) can you stand having a fence around gardens or flower beds? I have green plastic fencing around all my berries and my garden, otherwise the chickens would eat not just the berries, but the raspberry leaves down to the canes. Do you have any known poisonous plants in your yard? Will it bother you if they come up on your patio and poop it up like crazy (they will, but it’s easy to hose off)?

Thanks for writing, and good luck making your decision.

You alls feel free to comment if you have anything to add, or other questions, or do something totally differently–I’d love to know.

Hey Seattle Chicken Ranchers

I’m thinking about ordering sexed chicks from the hatchery again next spring, in such a quantity that they would not include ROOSTERS FOR WARMTH. With the new in-town limit being eight, I think it should be easy to get a group together for a small bocky co-op.

I had good luck with Ideal this year and they have an extensive catalogue, so a person could hand pick whatever pullets they want. What this would look like is that I would place the order for mid-February or early March, and contact you when they come in and you could pick them up, and I would charge some flat fee like $4 per, to spread out shipping and taxes. I’m NOT looking to make money, just to spread some chicken fabulousness.

An advantage here is that you don’t have to drive way out to one of the feed stores. Another problem with the feed stores is that they often order straight run chooks so it’s good luck Chuck with what you get. I got zero roosters from the sexed pullets I hand picked this year.

Let me know if you might be interested in a small amount of co-op’d chicks, anywhere from 1-8 for next spring. You’re not committing to anything and I won’t email you later. I’m just gauging interest. If people seem interested, I will put a call out in January and we can email. I’m certain regular locals have sussed this, but I’m centrally located and north of downtown. Feel free to tell a friend.

Todd Planet Mr. Todd Planet Guy with all the Todds

Changes here! When I get three chicks, they are welcome guests in my house. When I have 24 chicks, not so much. The Todd Nebula moved outside last week, which was working pretty well. I sent them out as a big clump of Laikas to see what Outer Garage was like. I started them off easy, with their boxes lidded, and then left it off during the day, then l left the lids off all the time. They are over four weeks now (more than halfway to Carrousel) and are pretty well feathered out.

What does this factory make? Nobody knows.

Today’s innovation, as we moved the hens upstairs, was to connect multiple boxes with pop holes so they can move in between boxes. Again, with 3-5 hens on a normal year, I would be fine with one box for 6-8 weeks. Not so this year. I know this looks like a brokedown Hooverville, but it’s going pretty well. If I had a farm and was doing this yearly, of course I would dedicate a shed or build some large pens for young birds.

The hens explore their new space.

When they get flightier in a week or two, they will be completely covered or trellised.

The new space was disconcerting! Not all of the hive could see each other at once.

Kraienkoppe decided to be spokespullet for the first group that I had shoved through the pop hole so they could get the idea of where their food and water was.

Once she found her way back to the light, one of the new Easter Eggers took up the charge.


So, 24 chickens. I say to thee, “never again.”

And the cloud that took the form

This morning the daffodils are tilting forward gently, like they do right before their heads pop open. I like it–I have this vision of some fancy old timey lady with a lot of costume jewelry and a cigarette on a looong holder.

But before that! I dreamt I was having sex. Something was in my mouth and I could barely breathe…was it a paper napkin? (I suspect I was snoring.) No matter! I was having sex! Then I woke up. OH, SAD. But WAIT! I just dreamt I woke up, because then my alarm went off for real. I keep waking up at about 3:30, gripped with anxiety and all my dreams for the rest of the night are pretty much bad ones.

This weekend was busy busy busy moving sorting cleaning things. Goodwill runs! Changes are afoot, I will tell you in a few days. Nothing bad, I swear. I also moved the Todds into their own Todderdome. Now the hens are on their own with three spare Todds. They are getting VERY LARGE already and running around like whirling dervishes with their feathers growing in. I cannot believe how fast it happens.

Otherwise, it is quiet here. I am doing little crafty projects that were laying around like loose ends. I hung some pictures I had been neglecting since I moved in August. I was trying to avoid the cluttery feeling of my old too-small place, but I think there is room for a few more things around. I hung family pics on the wall in one of the staircases, not too straight. P. was helping. “Wabi-sabi,” he commented.

I am always wabi-sabi. I am putting up another mirror soon that I had ignored because the label was covering a crack in it, and I was insta-cross when I brought it home, but now I have reconsidered. It’s okay hang a cracked mirror, I guess. I don’t understand why these things change sometimes.

Also, it would not be a weekend without a stupid argument with my babydaddy that I actually LIKE. This is sport.

“I’m going to hang up that poster of clouds that I’ve had forever,” P. said, as I was doing some dishes.

This is where it immediately goes off the rails and some people (not me) are sorry they opened their mouth at all.

“Really, why?” I said.

“So I can see what the weather will be like.”

“SEE? WHAT THE WEATHER WILL BE LIKE?” Suddenly I was Gordon Ramsey on goofballs. “It’s GREY, you stick your head outside and it’s ALL GREY!”

“That’s not true at all,” he said. “There’s lots of different weather patterns here and you can tell if it’s going to rain and–”

“OF COURSE IT’S GOING TO RAIN, IT IS THE PNW! Save your poster, here is the only chart you need.”

I drew a chart for him on the fridge where the grocery list normally resides.

“Now in the Midwest there are actual cloud patterns besides grey–” I began.

“I don’t want to HEAR about the MIDWEST,” he said. “At least I know how to spell ‘G-R-A-Y.”

“GASP!” I gasped. He walked off. Where would either of us be without our weekly pointless bickering? The girls basically pass the salt over us when this happens now.

I also spent a little solo time with Franny, who needed a skirt for a field trip to the Symphony. I already mentioned this on the Twittergraph, but I was holding up not-pink things, because she does not dig the girlie pink stuff, and she was also insisting, “BLACK, ONLY BLACK CLOTHES.”

I teared up, for real. You can kind of tell we’ve been watching a LOT of Drag Race right now. Franny thinks of these types of shoes in a fabulous man context so we had to have a little breakdown about the clear stripper shoes. “Ladies wear these too, hmm,” she said.

The Wee Raptors Notice Something Is Amiss

Your chicken digest (they’re almost a week old). Wings and tail feathers are coming in. I thought I had an Ancona (black and white) and a black Jersey giant, but it looks like both of my remaining black chicks are getting black and white wings. Curiouser and curiouser.

I have named all the roosters, which I suspect are Rhode Island Reds, “Todd.” DOWN IN FRONT, TODDS.

I was discussing “males included for warmth” with my friend earlier, and he said he would have titled this post with that phrase.

A Fistful of Hot Cocks

Well, that should make the referrers amusing for the next ten years or so.

My chicks came yesterday, WOO! I called the post office when it was getting late, and the clerk told me they put the chicks on the mail truck. Uh…Woo, still? That seemed a little weird, but okay. I knew the truck usually comes between four and five which means they probably spent most of the day on the truck, bump bump peep, assuming my mailman started in the morning. When he saw me on my front lawn waiting like some sad, desperate beagle or something, he honked and I ran over.

“Do you know what this is?” he said, holding a box of PEEP PEEP PEEP WE ARE COLD chicks sideways and waggling them at me.

“Yes!” I said, and thrust out my grabby paw for the box. I got them into the house as quickly as I could…and then… POP.

WHAT THE FUCKTACOS there were 25 birds in this box. I ordered ten pullets. I looked at the invoice. There was a menacing notice rubber stamped on it in red ink. “Males included for warmth, Thank you.”

Fifteen roosters. Fifteen of these orangey guys. Maybe one or two is mis-sexed and is a pullet by accident, but I very much doubt it. I offered to pay the extra fees to just have ten shipped. I said “PLZ NO ROOSTERS THEY ARE ILLEGALS HERE.”

I’m going to need more brooders, more waterers, etc. And there will be lots of boys in the freezer in a few weeks, I think, especially when crowing kicks in. Is ordering exactly the sexed chickens you want such a smokin deal when they send you FIFTEEN BOYS, I ask you.


Mère supervises while my sister holds her.

Strudel admires my naked neck pullet.

So, for the chickeny people who are interested, I got 4 easter eggers, because we love our Calliope so, a naked neck, a Rhode Island white, a black Jersey giant, an ancona, and a silver Kraienkoppe. You know I like to roll fancy. I also got an Australorp, which I had a couple of 4 million years ago, but you know what, she up and cacked it this morning. She was a weak one. Sad, though.

The girls were slightly appalled I put her in the yard waste bin, but my philosophy is that I had known her for less than a day, and she is made of chicken…which I often put in the yard waste bin. Nature is a cruel mistress and I’m her pimp.