Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Caution: story of death and blood. Maybe don't even read it...

The grim reality of farm life (and the part I don't take pictures of) is that animals die up here. There are fewer roads, fewer people, more animals, and a lot more space for them to bother each other. Unfortunately, over the last week my poor little kids have been exposed to some of these less-than-pleasant truths. What makes it even worse is that the animals involved are our puppy Bentley and our chickens, who we raised from birth. How does one choose between two pets? Well, it seems that when one of them starts eating the others, the predator has to go. We aren't farmy enough to take Bently to the back 40 and shoot him, but we will need to find him a new home. I am so sad. But I was also sad to come home today and have to put a chicken "out of its misery" since Bentley hadn't finished the job. And that was the second time this week (and the fourth in Bentley's life with us). Yes, my kids were right there crying. And I cried too, hardened farm girl that I am. What a mess. Sorry to write such a downer post - aren't you glad you live in the suburbs?

4 comments:

H said...

I'm so sorry. That's no fun, you're so strong to be able to put the chicken out of its misery though! I could never do it.

Kayteedids Couture said...

You are amazing Heather! I would have wanted you on my wagon train if we lived in the pioneer days. ;) hugs!

Jen Mc. said...

Oh, dear. Not ideal- but it just seems like God continuously gives you fodder for a really engrossing book!! You should at least have a regular column in the Post! :)

Suzanne said...

I'm sorry... hardened farm chick or not, that's just a sad scenario all around.