Relative Something

And then there were two. Our beautiful Black Australorp chicken succumbed to her ailment overnight Tuesday. It became obvious she was shutting down for good when Cyndie could no longer convince “Asteroid” to accept offerings of electrolyte water. We made her comfortable in the barn under a heat lamp Tuesday night and Cyndie discovered the end had come by morning yesterday.

Our little three-some of adult hens were all that remained from a group of 12 we had started with a couple years before. Now, just a Buff Orpington and a Golden Laced Wyandotte are left without their third companion. On the bright side, maybe this will lean them towards becoming more friendly with the new brood who all keep getting bigger and more prominent.

Yesterday, as I pulled up toward the house when I got home from work, I spotted the two hens scratching through leaves with one little Domenique pullet right beside them doing the same thing.

Seemed rather quick to me that they would so suddenly pal up with a new friend on the same day that our “Asteroid” had just died.

That nick-name, Asteroid, happened after Cyndie misheard me when I was actually asking how our sick Australorp was doing.

Well, now she’s off flying with the real asteroids, no longer a prisoner to those wimpy chicken wings.

Shine on you crazy asteroid. Shine on.

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