To readers of this blog, I’m beginning to look like the worst hen keeper in the universe. Only recently, old age and (at a good guess) cancer took a couple of my hens. Then yesterday, we were searching high and low for Gigi, only to discover that she’d died. We’re baffled. She was in fine fettle. She was eating leftovers and lettuce sundaes (half a lettuce with yoghurt and sunflower seeds in the middle – good for hot days!) with gusto just the day before. Her comb had been bright and she was busy laying eggs. There’d been a worry about her crop a few weeks ago, but that had seemed to resolved itself and she wasn’t at all listless. No warning, in short, for what was to happen.
In fact, as I was taking photos of my shawl (I’ll have those details for you next blog post), she decided to photobomb the close up.
So, while I have no idea what happened, I can only think fondly of my shy, brown hen. Whenever I eat purple cabbage and tomatoes, which were her favourites to steal from the vegetable patch, I shall think of her.
I miss you, Gigi.