Adieu BlackPoule

Last night the hens didn’t want to go in their henhouse, but I wrangled them in against their will. I thought perhaps they didn’t like me taking out the divider between the nest boxes. This morning only two of them hopped down their ladder. I called BlackPoule but there was no response. When I looked inside she was dead. I am very sad. She was a beautiful hen. I don’t know why she died.

I think maybe she didn’t feel too great and the other hens were keeping her company outside, just as our dogs did when one of them was on his final night.

She was well fed, no predators had got into their house and she seemed fine yesterday.

Just in case the hen house had mites or lice I stripped it all out, sprinkled diatomaceous earth in all the joints and corners, in their straw and in the bedding in their nest boxes. Then Ali and I treated the hens against mites and I put stuff in their water that is supposed to help keep them healthy. I do these things regularly anyway, but when a hen dies you think that it’s something you might have neglected. You look to blame yourself.

Sudden chicken death isn’t particularly rare. Hens hide feeling unwell until the very last minute by which time it is usually too late. I’m very sorry to see BlackPoule go. By a stroke of magic, whilst cleaning out their straw I found one of her eggs buried out of sight. She left us a gift, albeit probably a very old one.

Thanks for all the eggs dear hen. I loved you very much.