Several weeks ago we brought home our last haul of chicks for the year. In the several days before the purchase I went over and over the list, wanting to keep the numbers (relatively) down, but also include every breed that I wanted to add.
In meticulously building this list, I repeatedly kept coming back to Lacey.
Lacey is our production white- a white leghorn. The white eggs that fill the shelves at the store are from white leghorns- these hens are MADE to lay, and lay frequently. When considering which breeds to add to my small final addition for the year, I just had the unshakable impression that if I wanted to have a production white in the flock, then I needed to bring one home as a chick in this last batch of the year.
But, we have Lacey. It didn’t make sense. But it was, as I said, unshakable.
I even verbalized to my husband multiple times that I just keep coming back to considering adding a White Leghorn to the list…but we have Lacey, so this persistent feeling was so unfounded.
We brought Lacey home as a hen, so I have no way of knowing how old she is, but she was in perfectly good health, no suspicion of anything wrong, no change in behavior or laying habits, just reliable Lacey.
When the time came, I disregarded the very real and very persistent nudge about this whole thing, and didn’t bring home a production white in our purchase of chicks.
A week later, it was obvious that Lacey was not going to be with us much longer.
I’ll spare you the details, but there are some horrible problems that can develop from a life of being such a prolific layer. The onset was quick, and realization that ending her life was the only viable solution was equally quick.
We did try, and we did give a day to assess our efforts, but it was obviously not working. And again, I knew, just as I knew the day before, that the only solution we could offer her was eternal rest. That morning, I stepped into definitely the least fun role I have as Chicken Momma- the Bringer of Death.
I held her, and thanked her outloud for the delicious eggs that she brought to our lives, for being an enthusiastic personality in the flock, and for the joy and beauty she brought to us.
When it was over and I was cleaning up, it struck me like walking into a brick wall- the vivid memory of that clear, persistent, unshakable fixation…that if I wanted a production white in our flock, I needed to get a replacement.
I had forgotten all about it until cleaning things up after ending Lacey’s life.
Chicken Momma intuition (if that’s a thing?) was letting me know that it was coming. There was no logical basis for why it would be true, but the crystal clear persistent nudge to get a replacement for my bird who was two weeks ago perfectly healthy, unfortunately ended up being true.
This has not happened before, and I will likely write about it if something similar was to happen again!
I am grateful for Lacey, for Farmer Jim who says Yes to all our animal adventures, and for the voice in my spirit that knew this transition was coming, despite reason.
BryanHomestead 