Oh Ducky, Ducky, Ducky. I have loved you from the time you were one day old...
...through those gangly teenage
...until you grew into a beautiful bird.
Even your shocking behavior later in life could not lessen my love for you.
I know you were led astray by that varmint Napoleon. Such an opportunist, he seduced you right out from under our noses. The cad!
What has happened to my sweet, sweet Duck-a-Doo? I suppose I'll never know. Perhaps she has found a cool, green meadow filled with wildflowers and tasty bugs and worms, with a babbling brook running through it. Perhaps she will live out her golden years (however many an eleven year old chicken can have left) in peace and contentment. Perhaps she will come back to me one day with a whole brood of baby chickies.
Denial - it ain't just a river in Egypt.
4 comments:
Here's still a glimmer of hope that she'll prove us all wrong and be back... maybe with a trail of chickies following her.
I will keep my fingers crossed that she will be back, and have a helluva story to tell. Damn those men...uh.. roosters
Oh... I hope she comes back. I lost two beloved roosters, so I hope your outcome is different.
I'm so sad about Ducky. We won't give up hope that she's out there living the life of a hoochie-mama hen, carousing with bad-boy roosters and eating waaayyy too many bugs and whatever else chickens eat. And then she'll show up on your doorstep, lots of little chickies in tow, begging to move back home and straighten up her life and want you to raise the grandchicks so she can get a job. These kids today!
Hugs to you!
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