A Chicken Dad’s Grief & Loss

This is the third post in a series about the impacts of losing a member of our flock. Unfortunately there is no shortage of sad endings, some expected and others sudden and inexplicable, that touch us deeply. 

Not everyone can relate to the grief that some feel over the death of a chicken – even other chicken keepers who see their birds as livestock, meaning an animal that has a purpose in serving their owner and it would be a bit unseemly to shed tears over something you could replace for just a few dollars. Clearly, they are not my people, though I respect that not everyone bonds to their birds as they might the family dog or cat.

Those stories resonated with my readers and I’m committed to continuing to hold space for them. Grief is something we all must bear as individuals, but that load is lightened when shared with others who understand and empathize with our loss.

For several years only about 11% of my Facebook followers were male; over time it’s crept up to 15%. The voices of male chicken keepers – especially when talking about their feelings – are often not heard so I thought I’d dedicate this post to the guys that have loved and lost a member of their flock.

---

One of our chickens died. She was eggbound which can happen when an egg gets stuck in their oviduct and if it isn’t dislodged carefully and very quickly, they will perish. Her name was Hazel but I called her Little Mama. She was very shy. I could barely pet her in we had her as she flashed by in the three years we had her. I knew when she walked right up to me this morning there was something very wrong. I looked at her closely and knew then what happened so I scooped her up and brought her in the bathroom in a large cage on top of plastic. I started bathing her in Epsom salt every 1/2 hour and I gave her calcium and water in an eye dropper a dozen times today. 

I stayed with her because I knew she would die soon. You’re going to laugh at me and say I’m ridiculous but I held her claw and put a rose next to her. I told her what a good bird she was and thanked her for her eggs. I said we would be alright and she could fly away home now. I walked out to the livingroom for maybe a minute to answer my phone. I went back into the bathroom and I swear to God the yellow rose I left next to her head was under her wing now and she had passed away. 8:45pm. Fly Free my Friend much love – Adam Scott Weissmuller

---

When we got this rehomed girl two years ago we were told her nest mate had recently passed. The other chickens in that flock didn’t care much for her, nor did the children of the family, so the decision was for her to move on. She came with the name Silvie which we kept since we weren’t feeling all that creative about renaming the Silver-Laced Wyandotte. 

From her very urban setting she would now become a country girl and we hoped a companion to our similarly aged Golden-laced Wyandotte, Winnie. Unfortunately, the pairing was short-lived as Winnie became ill and would die less than two weeks after introducing her.

Silvie would instantly become near-top of the pecking order, quickly asserting her dominance over the two smaller frizzles in our, then, small flock of five. She appeared to take a keen dislike to one frizzle in particular, Violet. Silvie was constantly pecking at Violet’s missing feather patch no matter how much Blu-Kote we used. None of the other senior hens did this. I began to think that Silvie was just a bully. 

It would take me a year to finally figure out what her true role was in our constantly-changing flock. Silvie was, what I called, the Enforcer. She was not merely picking on other girls. Silvie was making sure everyone got their due. Whether it be food, water, treats, or attention, Silvie was managing our flock while unselfishly taking a backseat and disregarding her own needs. Not once did I ever see her get food before another chicken had eaten.

Silvie was also a chicken who would do anything to avoid handling or even touching by my human hand or other’s for that matter. I couldn’t get her to submit by rubbing her back like the other girls. I could barely get close to her. She was stubborn in my eyes while probably too proud in hers. 

Silvie was fearless as she watched over the flock. She was the most rooster-like hen we’ve had in the four years we’ve been raising them. Silvie would not be intimidated by circling birds of prey or by our ground-based and short-legged Corgi herd. Even our aggressive alpha female Tetley was no match for Silvie’s focused and sullen stare.

Ten days ago Silvie was as tough and ornery as ever. Last night she died peacefully in our makeshift but oft too used bathroom hospice. At the end she was a sweet and misunderstood bird; resilient and so strong as I watched her grow so weak; weak enough for me to hold her and pet her fading rose comb for the first and last times.

I cry for all my girls because I’m a big softy. The tears for Silvie were unlike the others before her. She taught me the most about what it means to be a chicken dad. Goodnight girl. – Robert McLaughlin

---

This hen is seven years old and one of two left from our original flock that we moved with from Florida. She has very important sentimental value as she’s one of the OGs. I was going to euthanize her back in May as she was very sick, lethargic, not eating or drinking much. I tried multiple modalities and nothing seemed to be working. Out of the blue this miracle bird responded but then would wax and wane. I did everything with this hen and it became my mission to figure out what was wrong and fix her. 

We finally figured out she had canker but she never really responded to any of the meds. I have scheduled to euthanize her multiple times over the last few months only to cancel because she comes back from the dead. 

At this point I’ve come to the conclusion that I have to let her go and stop her suffering. Out of all the animals and chickens we’ve owned she has been the most resilient fighter I have ever seen. Even the farm vet who has been helping me with her case said she has been absolutely unbelievable with how many times she’s come off the mat. I refrained from euthanizing her even though I should have probably a long time ago because she had such a will to live.

It’s a sad story as the fight comes to an end. We have horses, goats, farm animals and domestic in-house animals and I will say in all my years I have never seen such a fighter before. I know she’s just a chicken but she will leave a story of will, grit and perseverance with me after she is gone. At the end of the day this hen has been an inspiration. It’s with a heavy heart that tomorrow I’m going to let her go. Today has been a rough. It became a mission of mine to fix her and at the end of the day I couldn’t. I feel like I failed but I know I did everything I could. I will never forget her and she will hold a place in my heart forever. – Rory Winter

---

We recently lost Phoebe, a super sweet Lavender Orpington that beat water belly (ascites) several times (vet visits + we drained her with syringe). She miraculously recovered quite well each time and acted healthy and happy for many months again and again, but this last time went downhill fast and ended up passing away while resting on a pillow by our fireplace. We’re thankful for the many eggs and snuggles she gave us over the past several years. Sweet animals are certainly a blessing in our lives. 

I ordered this cross pictured here where she is buried under a Sweetgum tree which included this inscription:

Job 12:7-10 – “But ask the animals, and they will teach you, or the birds in the sky, and they will tell you; or speak to the earth, and it will teach you, or let the fish in the sea inform you. Which of all these does not know that the hand of the Lord has done this? In his hand is the life of every creature and the breath of all mankind.” – Jason Aeroengineer

---

My Dolly suddenly passed this morning. She had an impacted crop last week which seemed to get better. To say I’m heartbroken is an understatement: she was the sweetest bird I’d ever had the pleasure to care for.  She loved people and would run up to my wife and me and wanted to be held everyday. We don’t think she died from the crop issue because she was acting normally when we checked on them before bed last night. 

Dolly always had a balance issue. She used her wings to keep her balance and many times if she was knocked over, had a hard time getting up and stable unless I was there to pick her and put her on feet. She wasn’t able to fly at all. When my wife found here this morning in the run it looked like she fell out of the coop and suffered a traumatic neck and spinal injury. I pray she didn’t suffer and it was instantaneous. Dolly was loved and cared for till the last bit of dirt was placed in her grave. As for many of us who own animals have said to often when my day comes I hope she greets me at the rainbow bridge. I will miss you Dolly. – Brent Hardesty

---

Thanks to everyone who shared their stories and photos. Feature photo credit: Haidy Mansfield

If you’ve got a story to share drop me a line using the ‘contact’ button on my homepage.