Run chicken run, In memorium

I have found a lot of joy watching Valerie’s chickens grow up.

The joy ended today.

Valerie called just to share her depression with a fellow chicken lover.

Two stray dogs came and tortured or ate all of our grown babies while they were home alone today.

I feel like I am stuck emotionally in a chicken holocaust.

Not to mention the loss of the future farm fresh eggs.

The chickens just didn’t stand a chance.

Especially since Big Mama who ended up being Big Papa had already been eaten by the humans.

God bless Valerie while she cleans up the feathers.

And every time in the future she hears the joke that begins with “why did the chicken cross the road”, she won’t be able to stop herself….

“to run away from those mean dogs.”



  1. Oh no … that is so sad. My best friend and I used to be forced to help her grandmother pluck chickens when we were 12 or 13. It made me sick — I know that I eat chicken, but I don’t want to see them die OR be responsible for getting them ready for the feast!(chicken holocaust did make me chuckle just a little though — is that okay??)I am sorry about those mean, hungry dogs — I’m sending you and Valerie some hugs!(Oh — and do you notice I am the first to comment on your post because I am the only lame person surfing the internet on a Friday night??? LOL)

  2. When I was growing up we raised chickens… had our own fresh eggs. One summer we had over 125 chickens… that is until… until our neighbors greyhound dog found out. He would jump a 10 foot fence and kill our chickens… that summer he killed 63 chickens. Knowing my Dad I am not sure why he didn’t shoot the neighbors dog… but my guess is my Mother stopped him. So I know what a chicken holocaust is all about.ToOdLeS,ShEiLA

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