In Memory of Chickie 2003-2009
Sad news, our six-year old speckled black and white Barred Rock hen died today. She stopped eating two days ago and wondered around the yard in a daze.
Bud, my husband, Dixie, our golden retriever, and I miss her waddling among the weeds. Her soft coo when we walk up. Her napping and preening with Dixie. Scratching in the sand. Pecking at seeds with her bright yellow beak and claws. Her red face with soft bay-colored eyes searching the soil. Looking first with her left eye and then with her right. Her delicious brown organic eggs.
We miss you Chickie. You were a precious friend. Your spirit is with us forever.
Chickie, our hen and Dixie, our golden retriever, usually hang out with me when I do my daily yoga in the sun on the back lawn. Because owls and hawks have tried to catch Chickie she stays close to Dixie and I when she’s out of her pen.
Dixie lay next to me while Chickie scratched the sand with her claws. She turned her head and looked at the insects with her right and left eye before pecking at them.
While in the yogic corpse position with my eyes closed Chickie suddenly began to squawk loudly. I jerked my eyes open, gasped and jumped up.
The talons of a red shouldered hawk clutched her back as she raced across the lawn towards some underbrush.
My heart pounded as I leapt to my feet. “NO,” I yelled as I ran towards them. “NO, NO, NO,” I kept shouting. My mouth was dry as I skidded towards the place where Chickie and the hawk disappeared in the bushes.
“I’m going to pull the hawk off the chicken’s back and I’m going to get hurt,” I thought reflexively.
My knees quaked as I knelt next to the brush.
I gawked in disbelief. The hawk lay on it back with its feet in the air. Its large outstretched wings were pinned under some roots.
I sighed with relief. Chickie was elsewhere.
The hawk lay still. It began to wiggle when Dixie bounded up . I grabbed Dixie and moved away.
The hawk immediately extricated itself, flew up and perched on a nearby tree limb. Dixie barked and jumped in the air as she ran towards it. The hawk eyed us.
I ran to the bushes in search of Chickie. She was squatting under a thick evergreen shrub. Relieved I examined her back. Her black and white feathers were a little rumpled but she seemed okay.
Chickie nested under the bush for the rest of the day. I fed her sunflower seeds I was glad see she’d not lost her appetite.
Chickie is one smart chicken. I’m proud of her.
