Once there was a little penguin… who was actually not a penguin at all.
Recently my lil family decided to take on additions. We’d been thinking on it for awhile. Working on becoming a little more self sufficient one step at a time.
We love eggs and spend the extra $$ to buy free range and organic. So a logical step on our path was chickens.
My husband’s aunt let us borrow City Chicks, and my husband, being the book man he is completely devoured it. He researched the specific breeds and chose 3 different kinds to welcome to our abode. Even before they came, we knew they would make an impact. My husband build a brooder, took special care in selecting food and bedding, and then we patiently waited for our new little friends to arrive.
That is what they were really, our friends. We discussed the fates of our friends, and knew without question that once they grew past their egg laying stage, they would continue to frolic until they died of old age. Then they would get a proper burial and farewell just as any good friend should.
They arrived! And oh, what a brilliant lil mother hen my beloved husband was. My daughter named all 6 of them, one of them being Penguin. Sweet little Penguin. At first it was hard to tell that she wasn’t quite keeping up with the rest of them. Baby chicks grow fast though, and while the others were getting their tail feathers and stretching their wings, Penguin was sleeping a lot and rather squat in her appearance.
We got probiotics, put colloidal silver in her water and gave her extra attention and love.
They were born Wednesday, arrived Friday, and lil Penguin left us today.
This morning, my husband got out his Reiki plate and held Penguin to his heart as he lay against it. He prayed over that sweet little chicken. Later, he told me tearfully that he felt Penguin telling him it was almost time.
One week. Barely. And she had reached into our hearts with her soft little feathers and sweet spirit.
Niko came in to hold her and massage her belly. She was dehydrated and I dipped her beak in the water dish. As he held her and prayed with her, her little spirit departed her body and my husband sobbed uncontrollably for this being that was only with us a short time. Then we all cried and mourned together for little Penguin. He put her into my hands and I stroked her fur and let my tears roll onto her body. I spoke to her softly knowing she was gone. And then I found an old purple glass box and put some of her bedding in it. I lay her little body on the bedding and covered her in rose petals.
In our favorite corner of the yard, underneath a lilac bush, we laid her to rest. I collected more petals and split them between my husband and I (my daughter was too upset to take part). We covered her grave with loving vibrations and tears.
I had a very spiritual experience today with that little chicken. Holding her, I felt divinity. Both alive and when she had passed. Watching my husband grieve, and feeling his love and heartache, I experienced it again. Laying her to rest, I felt divinity all around us. And even now, it is still with me.
I wanted to just sit at her grave all day, but I couldn’t. I had to mother my beautiful weeping child, and get myself ready for work. So I did.
But the divine experience of it all… how beautiful to feel such a thing in the life and passing of our little chicken friend. Thank you, Penguin, for gracing us with your sweetness.
Rest in peace. 6/2/10 – 6/10/10