Professor Snape was a Good Chicken. She was a Hen with a Great Disposition and Stunning Beauty6/8/2017 Three years ago we purchased a batch of 5 chickens. They were adorable Ameraucana chicks and I let Emerald name them. That was a terrible idea. No matter how much you love a chicken there is no guarantee that it will survive. Harry, Hermione, Ron Weasley, and Dumbledore were all gone by the next season. It was a crappy batch, I guess. They didn’t even make it to laying age. Professor Snape was the only survivor.
The next year we purchased another batch and 2 out of the 5 survived the year. We had a good hearty trio for another season and finally enough eggs for our family to justify all the chicken burials/dinners depending on how they died which was usually a broken neck from falling, sickness or being egg bound. Em refused to name the second round. She would not visit, and complained when I asked her to feed them. She withheld her love. Em was too heartbroken when Hogwarts was decimated one character at a time. When I would report that one went down, she shrugged. No chicken news was good news. Last year was a decent chicken year, I didn’t have to buy eggs, but I didn’t have enough to give away. I actually love giving away and sharing the organic eggs, and these were really cool because each lady laid a different color. One laid pink, one laid blue and the last one laid green. Our modern birds looked like adorable cartoon characters, especially when they ran, but they were not meant for thriving for the long term. They supplied us with eggs around the clock and that taxed their fragile systems. We wormed them, let them free roam, fed, adored and cherished them. We kept them warm and sheltered in the winter and watered, cool and shaded in the summer. Still no luck, they dropped very easily. One by one, our urban chicken experient proved slightly flawed. One flock, a hearty, great bunch the year before we picked up Harry Potter and his consorts was ambushed by dogs when we were on vacation. I had one chicken out of the bunch I was really attached to. She was a Delaware my husband traded with the neighbor in exchange for building a chicken shelter. She was the boss for a few years, and a lovely kind hen. Emerald called her White Snow. When we were leaving for Kauai I was worried about her, she looked a bit ill, and was a couple of years old. They don’t seem to make it passed the 3 year mark. She was gone by the time we came back (dogs broke in and got her), but maybe it was for the best. I had a bad feeling before leaving and made sure to hug her and tell her I loved and appreciated all her hard work. Our most recent hens we named 1-5 but then when only 2 were left they became “Brown” and “White”. We also still had Professor Snape, the only survivor of the previous gaggle. Em tried not to get attached, but I’m afraid it’s hard not to, especially when Snape liked hugs. Snape was gorgeous and so friendly. Snape was my girl. Professor Snape became egg bound a few days ago. I followed the protocol, I gave her a warm bath, I massaged her belly and gave her a private room filled with fresh hay. I think she may have been forgoing water and food, I planned on dropping some electrolyte filled water down her throat this morning, but she didn’t make it past 10AM. Em will be sad for a minute. She come to expect these fragile chickens to part quickly. We’re not eating Professor Snape, I’m ready to bury her next to her sisters, and the many chickens that went before. I am not absolutely certain she was egg bound, it could have been a number of things. Just in case it was some rare chicken disease it’s better to be safe and buy my organic chicken from Costco. Dan and I ran into some friends of a friend at the pool and I asked them if they still had their chickens (we had a great chicken chat a year or two ago at a party, when we were both just starting out). They obviously can relate to our experience, because they said they learned not to get attached to the birds. They also noted the skimpy nature of the hens upon eating them. We had noticed the same thing when we ate ours. What are they feeding these giant breasted birds in the grocery store? I really wanted to keep Snape’s feathers, as she was quite the beauty, with a head akin to a beautiful golden hawk. That might be a little weird. I also have no plan of what I would actually do with feathers. I don’t have the time to make a hat or a belt. I guess she’s doing me a favor because we’re moving soon. Our one lonely chicken, White, will be going to a new home soon. I hope she finds better luck and maybe even love. I also hope she assimilates quickly and doesn’t get her chicken butt handed to her by the other hens. They don’t call ghetto crazies chickenheads for no reason. To Professor Snape, may you rest in peace, and thank you for the eggs and the hugs. You were the only chicken I ever gave an abdominal massage and bath, and you may be the last. Hopefully I’ll be ready for more hens by next season when I’m up on the hill. This farming thing is making me hard.
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