RIP

Bye Gimpy

Gimpy's gone. She was broken from the day she got here and when she didn't start layin around the time the rest of the girls did--well--I guess I always knew she'd not live as long as her flock mates. So she's gone--died last week while we were out of town. She was well cared for and had everything she needed--water--food--a place to hide from Chicky-baby--everything. 

Gimpy's wings were tattered where she'd banged them on edges flapping to help her get around. The feathers on her underside had worn away and her one good leg was kind of twisted to help her scoot along. She couldn't scratch--tho if you set her in cool dirt in the garden she enjoyed digging into the ground with her beak and if she had a mind to get somewhere she got there--even tho it cost her a whole lot of effort. Gimpy was as valiant as any other creature who's made the best of their lot. 

I'm glad I knew her. Sometimes when I was sitting out in the shed on a cold night Gimp would flop into my lap. I'm glad I spent extra time out there sitting with her. I'm glad I stroked her feathers till her eyes closed and she slept a few minutes as a normal chicken before waking up and being tossed into the reality of never being able to roost with the rest of the girls. The best she could do was a warm lap--or a folded towel next to a straw bale. I loved her fierce face and the coloring of the feathers on her neck. She should have been a beauty. 

I guess you could say Gimp had as good a life or better than most chickens--she always had a clean place to live, plenty of clean food and water and even treats. When she died she was in her own place and in the company of her flock. Compared to the millions of poor terrified birds raised and slaughtered in god-awful poultry operations --- Oh lordy--I gotta stop eatin chicken.