The Empty Nest

Thinking of empty nests is what most people think of when their children finally leave home, after twenty years or so of residing with their family.



But this is the story of a different kind of empty nest. It's the story of my empty nest, empty because a fox ate my chickens. Well, I don't actually know if it was a fox or not, but yes, my girls are gone. Gone to the great nest in the sky, leaving their little earthly nest empty.



I miss my girls, Ginger, Cinnamon and Nutmeg. We always chattered away in chicken language when we got up in the morning and I fed them, and again whenever I came home from wherever I was. I called and they came running. Even though I knew they were just looking for food, they were always a great welcoming committee.



It was about a week ago. There had been snow, and they really didn't like the snow at all. They had stopped laying, and all they would do was hang out in their coop. I would go out and cluck cluck to them, and they would cluck cluck back, so I knew they were in there. One afternoon, I came home from work.....to silence. Oh, I thought, they must have gotten brave and be out wandering around somewhere. They'll be back at dusk. Dusk came, but no girls. The next morning, no girls. The next afternoon, still no sign of them. I wandered all around the property, looking for signs, a feather, blood, a foot........nothing.

Now, I am preparing for some new girls. I am building a new chicken coop in woodworking class. A deluxe model, insulated, with a window, and doors that latch to keep those nasty predators out.

I really wish that my girls had been spirited magically away to that big nest in the sky, but alas, I know its not true. I hate to think that might have suffered. I hope that foxy loxy enjoyed his fine feathered dinner, and that he killed them quickly.

Goodbye, chickapops. May you roost in peace.