Our almost eleven-year-old, Sidge, handles the chicken chores on our farm. Every morning he walks to wherever our approximately 150 chickens are living (based on where our egg-mobile is parked) and let's them out for the day. He gives them food and water. He returns later in the day to give them more food, check their water, and collect eggs before we put them to bed at dusk.
Yesterday he found a sick chicken. This happens now and then. Sometimes we know what happened. Sometimes we don't. I often will just leave the chicken be, but Sidge's heart is always pricked. He's super sweet. Super sensitive. Just a kind soul. Not only with animals but with people too.
So he picked up that sick chicken and carried her back to the house. He was planning to put her in our "hospital" where we can give her some time to not be bothered by other chickens and recover.
Only she died on their walk to our house.
Sidge poked his head in the front door and asked JB to come outside and talk to him. They spoke in the mudroom. Sidge was crying, and he told JB that he didn't want to just give this chicken to the scavengers. This is our typical practice. We try to let deceased animals be food for birds and animals who are okay with carrion.
But Sidge was adamant that this chicken needed to be buried. I'm not sure why this one affected him like it did. It wasn't even one of his named chickens. But he felt sure that he wanted it to not be carrion.
My husband told him that if he wanted to bury him, he'd need to do it himself. Sidge said he would. Mr. Jacob gave him a shovel, and Sidge picked that chicken up and headed down to a place his Dad had picked out to bury this chicken.
I think often about the things we learn on the farm. The moments. The memories. I hope I never forget my little boy tearing up with the loss of that chicken. I hope the loss of an animal never stops impacting his heart. I hope he continues to be kind and generous and sensitive as he grows on our land.
The lessons we are learning on these 96-acres are too numerous for me to possibly list.
But I will keep trying to Blog and keep up with the moments that makes this life the only one I can imagine living,
Yesterday he found a sick chicken. This happens now and then. Sometimes we know what happened. Sometimes we don't. I often will just leave the chicken be, but Sidge's heart is always pricked. He's super sweet. Super sensitive. Just a kind soul. Not only with animals but with people too.
So he picked up that sick chicken and carried her back to the house. He was planning to put her in our "hospital" where we can give her some time to not be bothered by other chickens and recover.
Only she died on their walk to our house.
Sidge poked his head in the front door and asked JB to come outside and talk to him. They spoke in the mudroom. Sidge was crying, and he told JB that he didn't want to just give this chicken to the scavengers. This is our typical practice. We try to let deceased animals be food for birds and animals who are okay with carrion.
But Sidge was adamant that this chicken needed to be buried. I'm not sure why this one affected him like it did. It wasn't even one of his named chickens. But he felt sure that he wanted it to not be carrion.
My husband told him that if he wanted to bury him, he'd need to do it himself. Sidge said he would. Mr. Jacob gave him a shovel, and Sidge picked that chicken up and headed down to a place his Dad had picked out to bury this chicken.
I think often about the things we learn on the farm. The moments. The memories. I hope I never forget my little boy tearing up with the loss of that chicken. I hope the loss of an animal never stops impacting his heart. I hope he continues to be kind and generous and sensitive as he grows on our land.
The lessons we are learning on these 96-acres are too numerous for me to possibly list.
But I will keep trying to Blog and keep up with the moments that makes this life the only one I can imagine living,
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