Pumpkin, Grounded No More

Photo copyright Aji, 2023; all rights reserved.

This morning, Wings went outside to feed Miika and let the chickens out of the coop. He was back a few moments later to let me know that we had lost our Red: pumpkin, grounded no more, can fly with Cobalt and her sisters now.

It's not a good photo, but Punkin, as she was also known, somehow managed to evade the camera most of the time. At least here, in this shot from a few years ago, you can see her face. More often, despite being by far the largest of our chickens, she managed to hide herself behind the others save for a flash of rusty red feathers here or there.

When I say "hide," of course, I don't mean it literally; it was more that she was active, always finding something to peck on the ground or pull from the soil, ruining my shot at the very last second. In addition to being the largest, she was also by far the oldest of our girls, and while she wasn't exactly thrilled with being picked up, she would let me do it if I needed to scoop her up and into the coop quickly (for example, on sighting a coyote).

And because she was the oldest, today's developments were not exactly a shock, although even last night she was moving around pretty briskly for an old girl (far better than I am, to be entirely truthful about it). She was, if memory serves, one of our second crop of chickens, born [hatched] on April first or second of 2014. That would put her only days shy of her ninth birthday, and for a chicken? That's ancient. But she was always a tough little girl, still laying up until a couple of years ago. By then, she'd more than earned her rest from all of that. She was not the alpha (that status belongs to the younger and more aggressive Australorp, Jade), but she was also nowhere near the bottom of the flock. Instead, she seemed to occupy her own special space, able to discipline others if she felt the need, and entirely undisciplinable by them. She never abused it; during Cobalt's last weeks, it was Pumpkin who sat with her, side by side or face to face in broody position, just keeping her company. She did the same with Mica [Little Bent-Beak] and others; her advanced age seemed to give her special empathy for those with disabling issues.

For months, now, we've noticed Pumpkin slowing — still lively, just slower. Given her age, none of that was surprising; what was surprising was just how active and engaged she still was. And it appears that she was the same last night, going to sleep as usual and then, in the morning hours, simply not waking up. As ways to depart go, it's about as good as it gets.

But I'm going to miss my big red girl, the Rhode Island Red hybrid who outpaced all the others on size, on age, and for a while, on egg production, too. She was one the sweet girls; chickens can be bullies, but she mostly about caring for the others.

We love you, little Punkin girl. Thank you for years of beautiful eggs, and for taking care of the whole flock. 

All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2023; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.