It is with the deepest regret that today my beautiful Daisy Doo passed away.
To be fair she is three and a half which is old for an ex-bat, and she has had the loveliest time for the two years she's been with me, but is doesn't stop my heart from breaking each time everyone of them leaves.
So she's now lying in state in my bathroom (where else) for my husband to get home so we can bury her.
She had been looking peaky for the past three weeks, and tube feeding her had kept her going long enough to enjoy a few more weeks of sunshine, albeit, she's not been at her liveliest and so I was tearful this morning when my husband announced she had passed away in the night, but not all together surprised.
What did surprise the heck out of me was when fussing over a dead Daisy, she opened a bleary eye at me and shook her head, prompting me to make a mental note to tell my husband that if he ever finds me dead to get a second opinion before burying me.
Alas however, after a couple of hours laid on the grass, protected from the other chickens, who sat next to her fence in the sunshine, she opened one of her eyes for the final time, slowly closed it again and passed on to the place where chickens soar.
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