Maud

When we received the chickens in June, Maud was obviously the largest and most mature. She is the first bird we named and she was likely the hen that laid our first egg here at Yestermorrow. She kept our first rooster, Mr. Chips, in line when he was being a little over-dominant. She is dark brown, large and lovely.

When we let the chickens out this morning, we discovered Maud, our largest hen, quiet and still in the dried leaves and wood chip bedding on the floor of the coop. On Thursday, she was hurt during an frenzied attack of the neighbor's Jack Russell terrier who has been trespassing at his leisure from across Route 100 for the past few years. When we found her, she was settled down in the bedding and her head appeared to have been gently laid over her breast, her eyes closed. None of the other chickens appeared to have bothered her. We buried her as a group this morning.

Maud is not the first animal, in my life, that has died in my care. I've had a hamster, a guinea pig, a cat and a dog - except for the dog, all have passed on by now, but this time feels different. I feel a powerful connection with her because I helped to bring her here. I built a home for her and the land she surveyed was spread before her by S. and me.

I have no tears for Maud, only a growing respect for her and all of the animals that will be cared for by us, whether they are named or otherwise. The connection I feel when I look into the eyes of an animal that provides what I need to live can't help but be life changing.