It’s hard for me to write this post. Keeping chickens is one of the things that I dearly love about homesteading. I love their little personalities. We don’t eat a lot of eggs so keeping chickens is something different for me. They become part of the family. At least for me they do. The Mister doesn’t love them but he understands how much I love them. But then things happen. They fight. They don’t get along. They pick on each other. Some have to go to freezer camp which happened last year. Then they get picked off by hawks, or other predators. Which happened to Pecky McPeckerson. And recently to Elsie. It happened the day before we were to leave for the Cape. I was out mowing on the big tractor right next to where they like to hide and scratch up the dirt. Right in front of the house. Right next to the front door. And people were milling about. A hawk attacked, and killed, Elsie. It took forever to find the other girls. They were so scared and were hiding in the bushes. We rounded up the girls and put them back in the chicken coop and chicken run. They would not come out of the coop for fear something would attack them. I don’t blame them. It had to be tragic for them. To watch their friend die. And so needlessly at that. But we left for vacation anyway. And I worried. But they seemed fine. Until we got home and I noticed Little Girl was doing her hunched up thing that she does when she’s laid an internal egg. Plus she’s molting. As was Clare E. Clare. All during vacation I was trying to decide what was best for the remaining three girls. I don’t have the capacity to keep just three girls. There’s no way for me to heat a coop built for 10 chickens and keep it warm enough for just 3 girls. They will never be able to free range on their own again, unless I want a hawk to attack them. I let them out when we got back from vacation and I literally had to stand right in front of them because the hawk reappeared within 10 minutes. No kidding. And I am at the end of being able to nurse sick chickens back to good health only to have them get sick again. Laying internal eggs is a death sentence for any chicken. Elsie was an internal egg layer but her body would go into a molt in order for her not to lay the eggs. Little Girl’s wouldn’t. She would get sick and need to be put on antibiotics more and more frequently. So I made the decision that I have been dreading. The girls are gone now. I don’t want to know any details. But it was the best decision. They weren’t going to make it. And people don’t want sick chickens. Or chickens that don’t lay eggs. Clare hasn’t laid an egg in about a year. That’s my best guesstimate.

This is a pictureless post. I can’t bring myself to post any pics of the chickens. If you want to see pics just look back through  my blog. In all honesty I have been separating myself from the girls for some time. I knew the end was drawing near, I just didn’t expect to come so soon or so suddenly. I haven’t been taking pictures of them for some time now in order to distance myself. I barely cried when Elsie died. But yesterday was hard. Yesterday I made a decision as a homesteader, not a chicken lover.

I know some of you may judge me for this. But please keep it to yourself. I am taking a break from social media while I figure out the next steps.I know one day I will be in the position to keep chickens again. Or maybe I get too attached to them and I’ll decide it’s not for me. But for now I miss my girls but know it was the right decision. Keep me in your thoughts as I move forward with my new normal.