There is trouble in the barnyard. One of the girls is sick. She is quite lethargic and spends a lot of time lying down. Our hosts are out of the country, but called yesterday. When I reported the poor health of the fowl, we found out her name is Ginger and that she is quite elderly. Lucy, who is the regular tender of the barn yard, asked me if I could kill her if necessary. Well I have killed chickens in my past. but it's been about 50 years. We had chickens when I was a teenager, and we would chop off their heads (ala Alice in Wonderland) when we would thin the flock. So my first thought was to find the hatchet. After further reflection, I went to a modern source to find the latest methods, and Googled how to kill a chicken. There are hundreds of hits on that, and also Youtube videos. The preferred method these days is breaking the neck. I will not go into the details of the technique. Many of you who enjoy fried chicken may turn into Vegans if you stop and think about who you are eating. So I have studied up on how to do this, and believe I have the technique down, but in the mean time she rallied yesterday. Word must have gotten to her that Lucy has given her the death sentence. We do know that there is a predator in the vicinity and that chickens have been known to disappear around here. I am hoping for that. If she does disappear we will not make a police report. We are on our way out for the morning feeding, we'll see what the morning brings.(Later in the morning)
Sometimes if you do nothing, the problem takes care of itself. Rather than being Dr. Kervorkian, I am now the Undertaker. Alas, she did not make it through the night. I found her under the chicken coop, she looked at peace. She will be part of the Sonoma county landfill soon.
In the meantime we have found a pickle ball group that meets daily. It feels good to get back into playing and working out the kinks. If you haven't heard of pickle ball, check it out.
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