Honey's On Her Way

 

Photo copyright Aji, 2020; all rights reserved.

As we've expected, we lost Honey overnight. I know it's hard to tell from the photo, but it enlarges if you click on it, and it's the only shot I could find tonight on short notice. She's the second from the left, the rusty dark gold one — which is where her name came from, actually. It wasn't a term-of-endearment kind of "Honey," it was descriptive: If you've ever seen a different types of raw honey, you'll know that some of it's darker than most of the stuff in the store, with a little bit of a reddish tint to it, more amber than yellow. She was one of our Ameracaunas, a hybrid of the feathery yellow Spanish Aracauna and Buff Orp, I think it is, and the feathers on her head and neck were the exact shade of dark raw honey.

She's one of the younger ones, not quite four, but for some chickens, that's about an average life span, and some of the hybrids from around here aren't as hardy as some of the others. She was seemingly fine, and then a few weeks ago, she started slowing down. We suspect egg binding at some point, although it eventually passed, apparently, but that can create internal fistulae that . . . well, there's not much you can do. The good news is that she did not at any point seem to be in pain; she just began slowing down, like you see happening in old age. Her body just kind of gradually wound itself down, like an old-fashioned clock, until she fell asleep for one last time. We've been expecting this for the last two weeks, frankly, and she lasted a lot longer than we thought she would; probably only the cold settled it now. We were prepared to do whatever was necessary to keep her from suffering, but I checked her rigorously, and she never seemed to be in any pain. She also responded instantly to her name, every time, and happily, and until yesterday she was still moving around when she damn well felt like it. Last night, we built her a warm burrow out of straw and made sure she was wrapped warmly in it. It could've been anytime between last night and early morning, but judging by the body, we suspect that finally, she flew on her way about 4 AM.

The Ameracaunas are mostly flighty birds, no pun intended.  Little Bent-Beak is the exception, probably because of what she's been through in her life. The others are skittish and not a little flaky. Honey was always like that, until the last couple of weeks, but during these final days she's seemed to love hearing the sound of her name and was fine with being held, both of which were new for her. Every time I called to her, she'd whip her head around, look directly at me, and usually coo or chatter a little. She was a sweet girl, just like her name, a happy girl. And Honey's on her way to make another plane happy now.

Fly on, Honey. We love you, baby girl.

All content, including photos and text, are copyright Aji, 2020; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.