THE TALE OF THE TWICE-BURIED CHOOK
Well, we went to bed a family of eight and woke up a family of seven.Â
I didn’t know whether to be happy or sad.
Looking out the back window, it was hard to know what that was in the middle of the lawn. It might have been one of the kids’ jumpers, a half deflated black basketball, a really fat, sleeping crow. I really had no idea. So it wasn’t until I got a bit closer that the truth revealed itself.
During the night, one of our chooks carked it. It was Coke, one of the originals. We’d bought three when we decided to turn our fairly normal back yard into a working urban hobby farm. There was Fanta (an orange chook) Sprite (a white chook) and Coke (the black chook).
Fanta went down a while ago. It’s hard to know how to say this in a pleasant way, but I think she was euthanised by our dog, Spud. Â
To be fair, that’s before we’d been absolutely clear with Spud about the rules governing her behaviour around the chickens – that they were not play things, or toys, or mid-afternoon snacks, but an integral part of our family. Once she understood that, everything’d been going along swimmingly in the back yard. The dog and two chooks have been the best of friends.
The concern is that now with Coke out of the hen house – and, this time, the dog had nothing to do with it -Â the balance might be out.
As for not knowing whether to be happy or sad about the loss, you’d have to experience urban chickens to understand their impact. You can’t leave them in the coop all day because technically, the eggs wouldn’t be free-range, which is kind of the point of the urban chook.
So you let them run free during daylight hours. And, once they’re out and about, they crap. They crap in their coop, too, but they crap everywhere else, as well. The little buggers squirt everywhere they go. All the time. Constantly. At the back door, under the outdoor table, on the chairs, on the doormat; everywhere. Someone should do a thesis on how a bird can eat a bowl of food but crap a bucket’s worth, you know?
So when I saw Coke had settled in for the longest sleep, I was sad, but was also, secretly in a don’t-tell-the-kids way, kind of happy. I mean, it’s a chicken, not a dog.
 Then I had to work out what to do with her.Â
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16 Responses to this article
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Hayley Gleeson September 3, 2012
This is timely for me.
Cooking dinner last night, I Skyped mum to say hi – as you do on Father’s Day. She’s actually delivered double value in parenting over the years, so she’s worth two parents to me.
As I explained what we were having for dinner and showed off my faux cous cous*, I became aware that she was very uncomfortable.
“I have bad news,” she said.
“Gerry (my going on 15 year-old cat who stayed at home with his nanna when I flew the coop years ago) hasn’t come home since Thursday.”
“I spent the weekend under the house and in the garden looking for him, but I don’t think he’s coming home.”
And that’s what cats do when they’re ready to leave the world: They take themselves off somewhere else to die.
Which is quite considerate and gracious of them, but at the same time distressing for their owners.
How do you farewell a cat without a corpse?
Either way, I like to think he went to sleep peacefully and wasn’t in too much pain.
He had a fabulous life.
*Cauliflower! If you pulse the raw florets in the food processor a few times until it’s grain-sized, you get a similarly-textured, gluten free version of cous cous. Fry it up in some butter with some leek / onion, add a bit of chicken stock, then throw in everything you’d normally add to your cous cous (spiced pumpkin, roasted tomatoes, chickpeas, cashews, lemon zest & parsley).
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Alison Casey September 3, 2012
Our cat had a stroke at fourteen years old(yes, there are cat neurologists), and disappeared about six months later. Not sure how he got out, as he could only walk in circles. We had a quite moving memorial service with photos. That worked for us.
Then the vet phoned us two weeks later to tell us he’d been handed in, she didn’t even have to scan him because she recognised “circle cat”. He had quite a large bite out of one hip, and lived for another three years.
I really want to try that couscous, sounds delicious.
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Vinny in Synny September 3, 2012
We have an inner city backyard which used to be a garden but is now home to a menagerie of chooks, rabbits, cats, goldfish and guinea pigs. My problem is remembering where in the plot I buried the last 10 years of pets. Recently Basil the bunny dug up his old mate Ginger the cat. Difficult to explain this to the children.
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Dr Sally Cockburn September 3, 2012
Aaah Andrew I sympathise, ( I can write you a medical certificate if you want to take the day off
) . My tale is a little tortured – my 2 beloved kitties Tig and Boo were approaching their 18th ( or is that 126th) b’days and the wheels were definitely starting to fall off – continence was becoming an issue ( thank god for 90′s tiled flooring !) but letting go was hard – If they had just woken up dead one morning I might have found it easier but I realised the green dream was becoming a reality. The longest drive ever toi the vets that morning. But actually in the end, with help of my fabulous vet it was ok. So quick , so serene – if only we had the same option as humans.
The reason I am writing is because the disposal I chose for Boo ( when I realised it was a possiblity ) was to donate her kitty body to the vet school for students to use for teaching purposes – they need to learn anatomy and specimens – especially those with colourful medical histories- boo had an array of (expensive) health issues – are evidently useful – do ring first – dont send in post…..
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Mrs Woog September 3, 2012
Ok, so our family dog had to be euthanised due to a plethora of health issues and the fact that she was about 103. A German Shepherd called Zoe. Anyway, she was buried alongside many family members of the Animal kind. It was a simple and moving ceremony.
Two weeks later Mum found a paw on the back step.
Turns out our other dog (cattle dog) was missing Zoe and got a digging and so we got to bury Zoe all over again after we collected bits and pieces of her from all over the garden.
Traumatised much?
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Natalie September 3, 2012
When our pet fish (Frank) died we had a burial in the back yard. My son who was 3 at the time asked if he could sprinkle glitter on Frank. I wasn’t sure why but didn’t see any harm in doing so. So he sprinkled the glitter and said bye to Frank. Over the next couple of years we lost a few more pets. The garden now contains 4 sparkly fish and 2 sparkly sea snails.
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Michelle September 3, 2012
We have just had to euthanise our single chicken Ginger – yes, being a single chicken meant that she thought she was more human than chicken (or we were just really large 2 legged chooks lol). She got barrelled by a pet rescue dog & went rapidly downhill from there. Turned out that she had eaten chicken wire (ahh the irony) & bolts from the fence that was to keep her off the pavers – I swear there was little chicken poo in the yard but loads all over the pavers.
We have an amazing vet & Ginger a devoted dad who tried everything – antiobiotics, anti-imflammatories, xrays etc but she was too ill. DH has buried her in the back yard with a bronze chicken standing on her grave with a pet tag that reads “RIP GInger” with her birth & death date. He is missing his mate who kept him company & would talk to us from the backyard. The grave mind you is covered in, again, chicken wire so that we don’t have to rebury her thanks to replacement pet rescue dog!
Having said all of that, no more pet chickens for us :’( -
sue bell September 3, 2012
running very late for a gig I was about to get in the car when my young son said “mummy, what does it mean when your lizard is stiff, I thought the damned thing had been hibernating but it was well and truly dead. A five second farewell ceremony then off to the play the gig. We now face the decline and death of our 16 year old dingo, I do not know how I will cope, I wake her up to check her breathing, just like I used to do with my babies. Her’s will be a much more formal funeral and for the first time in 40 odd years I will not be responsible for the care of anyone or any animal. Strange days indeed.
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Kate September 3, 2012
Until the 11th June this year we had eight chooks: Kerry and Julia (both red) Pepper, Xerxes, Blondie, Stendhal, Henny Penny and Ngambie. Early that morning my nephew was born (on the front seat of his parents car on the way to hospital.) I raced to let the chooks out before going to meet nephew only to discover total carnage in the chook pen. Black, red, and white feathers, pieces of skin but no bodies. Dogs had forced their way into the pen overnight, digging under the wire and forcing a dog-sized gap in the fence. We found one chicken was left alive, just, hiding in the agapanthas outside the pen. She had lost nearly all her feathers – they were left stuck in a gap between the gate and pole where it latches, she had forced her way through the gap in sheer terror. I miss our gentle, poopy chooks who shared the garden with our 13 year old dog, a 21 year old cat and 2 year old cat. I have simply closed the gate to their pen, too sad to even clear up the feathers.
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Jane September 3, 2012
My daughter doesn’t want to go to heaven – she thinks it’s in the wheelybin. Long story short – her beloved chook Charlotte died, and Daddy put it in the bin for the next morning’s rubbish collection (being an ex-farmer, he had trouble with burying ‘working’ animals). In an attempt to help her deal with death we had a gentle conversation about afterlife options – at which point she discovered Charlotte in the bin. Oops.
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Quiet September 3, 2012
I too am amazed that a few hundred grams of chicken feed and kitchen scraps can make about a kilo of poop plus an egg every day, how do they do that???
It’s a bit like the famous fishes and loaves story…
We are yet to face the other side of the circle of life, it’s not a circle, it’s a straight line, one end – “life is a pretty painting of a farm scene” and the the other end “real life and death”
We only have five healthy chickens, no plus or minus to the flock as yet, will work out if we have to re-bury a pet when we face that same circumstance in some distant future… -
Nat September 4, 2012
One of our fish passed away this week. I didn’t notice it floating, or sinking until I found it half eaten by the other fish. Left it there for hubby to dispose of that night. It was finished off by the time he got home. I find it Somewhat disturbing that the fish polish it off so quickly.
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Aileen Gleeson September 4, 2012
I am the grieving Nanna from the first comment, and have laughed and cried reading the responses to Andrew’s story. It has been very healing, so a huge thankyou to Andrew, all the contributors to this important and very ‘human’ topic, and The Hoopla for this fabulous website!
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Andrew September 5, 2012
What I love about The Hoopla is it goes to prove we’re all, pretty much, the same… Sorry about the dog Mrs Woog. That’s gruesome!
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Sara September 8, 2012
our puppy killed 8 out of our 13 ducks as well as one chicken. No matter how we discussed the matter with him, he just couldn’t help himself. He’s gone now (to a good home). Thank goodness, peace prevails again
