Cecily

Everyone who has animals has a favorite, even if they won't admit it.  Today, our favorite chicken was killed by a predator.

In the morning, one of our older chickens was attacked by a red-tailed hawk.  The boys and I saw it happen.  She was still alive, and we moved her into the chicken tractor, where she could be safe and alone.  She is in the coop with the rest of the girls for the night.  Her name is Floppy, and I'll keep the blog updated on her status.

After the attack, all of the girls ran into the coop-- except for Violet and Cecily.  They went to the backyard and hid under the butterfly bush.

The boys and I went the zoo, and when we returned, Cecily was dead.  We assume it was the same hawk.  My older son and I buried her in one of her favorite places (which was somewhere she was not supposed be, of course).

Cecily was our favorite.  When she was a chick, she looked like she was wearing eyeliner.  Even then, we had a hard time keeping her where she was supposed to be.  She was hard to catch from the day I opened the box--unless she wanted to be caught and then she liked to be carried.  Cecily was beautiful, and she layed (a lot) of the loveliest white eggs.  We are all going to miss her.

Cecily, just a few days ago

Me and Cecily

Cecily checks out a cow

Baby Cecily

My big guy giving Cecily a snack