Life with farm animals

When my husband and I purchased our land, my first thought was how badly I wanted animals. Horses, chickens, pigs, you name it. So far we've successfully raised all of the above with the exception of pigs, and added a couple bunnies into the mix as well. We do plan on raising hogs for meat, but we'll get to that later. Let me start off by saying, I LOVE my life and the life we've created for our daughter. She has such a great understanding of how the world works, the responsibility in something other than herself, being outside and enjoying the little things, not just watching tv 247. I've also noticed recently that she has such a great understanding of life cycles and that death is a part of life. I can't believe that for a three year old, she easily understands the food chain, and that sometimes things happen to our animals (specifically our hens) and that it just works out that way sometimes. 

Which brings me to my reason for this post. Our first pets we brought to the property, way before our house was even here, were three hens we inherited from my mom. Two of them were barred rocks that were about six months old that she specifically had gotten for me, in hopes I would soon start my own flock. She also let me choose one more out of her flock to bring home. My eyes were set on 'Fluffy', my daughter and I named her and instantly became so attached to her. She was a golden sexlink with the cutest little cream fluffy butt, and a darker gold chest and wings. She, from the get go, had her own attitude about her, she always wandered by herself, kept to herself and seemed so much more "mature" than the other two younger hens we got at the same time. She never squawked or drove me nuts, like a few still do, and I just had this strange love for her. I chose her, named her, and watched her grow. A few months later, we ended up taking the rest of my moms flock and all seven of them were back together. I've grown attached to some of the other hens, like Sassy, but Fluffy was still my favorite and my first "baby" of the flock. Unfortunately over the last few weeks, we lost one of our hens to some sort of predator, however it didn't bother me as much as I expected, because she just disappeared. I didn't find her or watch her pass away, so i keep telling myself she just waddled her fat butt to a nicer coop :). 

Yesterday, in my daily egg check, I opened the door to find my sweet Fluffy, dead in her nesting box. I was so upset. Fortunately, my husband was just getting home from work, so I was able to let my crying out while he scooped her up. I still can't understand why she passed, she was totally fine the night before, no signs of distress, no wounds or broken bones, she just didn't wake up. It seems so silly to be so upset over a dang chicken, but all these critters have made their way into my heart and that was made very clear last night after my finding. My sweet husband gave her the burial she deserved and I feel okay knowing that she passed peacefully. 

I know that these things happen, and having sixteen animals already, and continually adding more, I know that it will continue to happen. I guess this was just my first real experience with the death of a furry friend. I know she's in chicken heaven, eating an endless supply of mealworms and doing her own thing, I just wish she didn't have to leave us so soon...