Goodbye, Marshmallow

This has been a tough 24 hours on Butterfly Hill Farm. Last night, Melanie was putting the Chickens to bed in their House and did her usual Roll Call. Or rather, I should call it a Count.

Marshmallow, the White Plymouth Rock, was missing. Melanie quickly headed into the House and let us know the News. Our Steaming Hot Dinner which Richard had carefully prepared was suspended. We grabbed Flashlights and headed outside into the Waning Light.

For an hour, we checked all the places we could think of: Where she might have been trapped, where a Varmint might have gotten her, and more besides. The Chickens are very good at coming into their House and claiming their Roosting Places at an Early Evening Hour. We Humans moved quickly but with Heavy Hearts, hopeful but preparing for the Worst. The Evening became Night.

Richard found Marshmallow up by the Lane just North of the Drive. She had been hit by a Person Driving a Large Vehicle. I could have said, "Hit by a Vehicle". But Vehicles typically do not operate under their own Free Will.

Marshie was still alive but in tough shape. We organized a bit of a Chicken Hospital in the Bathroom. We brought in a Heat Lamp to warm her. Melanie held her gently and lovingly, cleaning her wound.

In the meantime, Richard and I headed to Dinner, which by then was cold. Quite by coincidence, he had fixed a beautiful Roast Chicken with Dressing and other fixin's. The Chicken was one of the Roosters he had butchered earlier in the Fall. The Roast Chicken sat all sprawled out in the Pyrex Baking Dish in the middle of the Round Oak Table. We had some things to ponder.

Melanie sat with Dear Marshmallow most of the Night. The Morning hours brought Fog outside but greater clarity. This precious little Hennie had lost considerable vital energy. It was her time to go.

We said "Goodbye" to Marshmallow. Richard picked her up in the towel that had held her and placed a shovel in his hand. On the way to the Woods, Marshie looked up at him. And then her time had passed.

Later in the Morning, Richard and I headed down the Drive toward the Farmers' Market. To our disbelief, he noted a set of Tire Tracks had veered off the Lane into the Grass leaving Large Wheel Marks next to the 1st pile of Feathers, which was assumed the site where Marshmallow had been hit. While we cannot know if she was hit intentionally, that is a distinct possibility.

You need to know that we 3 C's believe Life in its Myriad of Forms is a Sacred Gift of the Divine. We try to live our Lives to honor that Gift, in every Step, in every Breath. Chickens are not Meat. Chickens are not unfeeling Beings. They are living Companions who just happen to give us a Gift of Life. We have been entrusted by our Creator for their Care. This is a serious matter for us. It is not always easy, it is often filled with Joy, it is our Path, it is how we have made Sense of and Peace during some unfeeling Times.

You may also have read in an earlier Blog that the Chickens have been ranging farther as the Fall edges closer to Winter. We have struggled with this One. We have watched them as much as we can. We often have headed down the Drive to round them up and head them back to the middle of our little Sanctuary, as if you can Round Up a Chicken.

This Little Episode has presented us a mix of feelings. We are grateful for the Gift of Marshmallow in our Lives. She was a Fine Hennie, sometimes known to want to color outside the Lines. She joined our Little Farm a year ago in June. She was one of the Hennies who most cherished her Dustbaths. She loved Most being covered with Dirt and carried it proudly on her White Feathers. We are grateful for the Eggs with which she blessed us. I now wonder which ones were hers. Each of the Eggs seems to have a Signature, as surely they must.

We 3 C's are ultimately responsible for our Chickens, which includes keeping them Safe. As of this writing we will initiate some actions on containing the Chickens. (1) We plan to open up selected portions of the Gardens. They are now fenced. We need to harvest the Remaining Veggies in the Gardens unless we want the Chickens to do that for us. We will fence off Portions which are Off Limits to Chickens (like the Garlic Patch, some of the Herbs, Strawberries, perhaps my Wildflowers). (2) We will likely fence off the West Portion of the Yard with Chicken Wire. That could be a bit tricky because it is expansive, but doable. (3) We will likely keep the Chickens in their Coop until later in the Afternoon. This will give them time to lay their Eggs in the Nest Boxes. They are not the happiest when they are confined to their Coop, but their Yard is large and luxurious, at least from our standpoint. As the Afternoon moves on, the Chickens are usually lower on Energy and are preparing for the Evening Hours. Our speculation is that they will be less inclined to roam so widely.

While we cannot know if Marshmallow's Death was intentional, we do know that Many People in our World have a cavalier attitude toward Animals. They treat them as disposable. They treat them as subject to Human Whim. They are unable to see the Pain and Suffering of Animals and their relationship to it, at least at this Moment in Time. They either do not see or they are quick to lash out at what many assume to be the "Least of These", and others perceive to be "Our Kin".

We tried not to respond with Anger in the Mix of this Day. Richard asked: "What would Gandhi do?" I offered prayers of Healing. Melanie picked up every one of Marshie's feathers and whispered softly: "Peace."

"Goodbye, Marshmallow. You have taught us many lessons and for that, we are grateful. Safe Journey, Dear Animal Friend."

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Photo above: Marshmallow, the Hennie