GretTa

It happened. We had our first casualty on our urban chicken farm. Sweet Greta crossed the rainbow bridge and is now resting in chicken heaven.

Shortly after bringing home our first three chickens, I began to notice that something was a little off about Greta. She was beginning to be really sleepy, and sort of just hang out by herself. Concerned, I contacted the lovely lady who helped us purchase our chickens and she also was concerned about her. I was told to keep an eye out on her and see how she develops over the next few days.

Being overly paranoid, and an insomniac, I did more research on chicken diseases than I could possibly imagine. I came to my online doctor conclusion that she likely had a parasite that was keeping her from absorbing nutrients. I kept a watchful eye on her and would cook the chickens oatmeal every morning along with providing a little yogurt to their meal. These chickens were being cooked breakfast even when I would toss a muffin at my children. Ridiculous, I am aware.

It appeared as if she was possibly getting a little better, however, the other 2 chickens were doubled in size, and sweet Greta was still the same size as when we brought her home. Clearly, something was wrong. On Friday afternoon, I went to check on how they were doing and poor Greta just seemed to be miserable. She wouldn’t open her eyes. She just slept. And when you touched her, her body was rather lifeless. I knew it was time to end her suffering.

So, as I would with any pet, I called my vet. They do not deal with chickens though. I had to remind myself we are in the city, and most people don’t have chickens. I had also done lots of research on “what to do with chicken”, and knew what my options were. They were not fun. Upon a few more phone calls, I did come across a vet that would humanely take care of our chicken.. but for quite a hefty fee. Not to say Greta wasn’t worth it, but she was a chicken after all. So, we called a dear friend.. who I am now realizing happens to be a Godsend.. he makes paella, helps with chickens, loves my kids, and too many other good things to name. He was in the Peace Corps in Honduras, and is familiar with helping chickens cross the rainbow bridge. Luckily, he also lives around the corner.

Before Greta had to visit him, there was the unpleasant task of teaching a 3 and 4 year old about the “long sleep”, as Finley says. Since this was Piper’s chicken, it was a devastating conversation along with lots of pouting and a little crying. HEARTBREAKING.

Once the conversation was over, and they were thoroughly distracted, Greta made her way down the street. Quickly and without pain, she is now in chicken heaven.

Fast forward two days, we were finally in a place that Piper wanted to replace her Greta (and the chicken farm was open). The girls and Justin set off down to San Leon to get a replacement, which Piper has her mind set on Greta. We decided that it would be Gretta, with two T’s. Apparently, the lovely chicken lady convinced them they needed a second chicken as well. Free, for the inconvenience of losing a chicken and making another hour drive to replace her.

I come home, go to check on the new Gretta, and to my surprise, find not one, but two chickens. This was not the deal, and I was very confused. However, I was told the story about needing two chickens, so here we have Gretta and Lucy. Lucy is our Cinnamon Queen. She is also named after Gru’s wife in Minions 3, as that was the movie they were watching on their way to pick up the chicken.

Now, we have 4 chickens. As I said before, I will keep you posted.