Welcome to Cranky Puppy Farm!

This blog belongs to two Gen X-er's smackdab in downtown Kansas City where we've been renovating and decorating two old Victorians built in the 1890's. Our life is filled with 3 demanding Pomeranians (1 of them cranky, of course), honking cars, noisy neighbors and the hustle and bustle of city life but we dream of the day when we can move to our 40-acre farm and hear nothing but the wind and the cows next door. Until then, we're chronicling our triumphs and mishaps here as we try to garden and preserve on 2 city lots, raise chickens, and learn all those things we should have learned from our grandparents. Welcome to our world - we hope you'll stay awhile!

Dealing with Death On the Farm

Thursday, April 24, 2014

Now that I look at this picture, it almost looks like her neck is broken?
I always knew it was going to happen some day, even if I knew it wasn't going to be by my own hand.  But my gorgeous hens are only 3 years old, so I didn't expect it this soon.
When I went out to check on the chickens this morning, I noticed that only 3 of the Barred Rocks were out in the pen to greet me.  That's not something that would be alarming, as it's pretty common for one of them to be in the nesting box.
So I opened the door to grab the eggs and fill their feeder and that's when I saw her.  She was laying on the floor of the coop with her feet under her as if she had just laid down there to go to sleep.  Her eyes were closed and she looked so peaceful.  My initial reaction was that I needed to be quiet and not wake her, but I knew that wasn't the reality.  She was gone and it had happened sometime overnight.
There was no sign of trauma and she hadn't been acting ill.  In fact, she was fine yesterday.  But those of you who keep chickens know that they almost never show signs of being sick or having problems.  I know there are some people that do autopsies on their chickens to try to figure out what caused their death, but I've decided I'm not going to do that.  For one, I don't have the stomach for it.  And I'm not sure it would make a difference anyway.  Just in case, I checked over the rest of the flock to make sure they were OK and didn't find anything wrong.  I guess it was just her time?
Yes, she's just a chicken, but I raised her from a 3-day-old chick.  She's been a pet ever since and has provided us with delicious eggs, so she deserves a special burial.  She's now in her final resting spot next to our beloved dogs that have left us.


  1. Aww, poor gal. We seem to lose ours to natural causes around the age of 3. It is sad to lose them.

  2. Thank you for your comment, Inga. I feel better knowing that it's not uncommon to lose them around that age.

  3. I have had about five who literally fell off the roost dead... it happens. You gave her a wonderful life!


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