Monday, April 18, 2016

Another Day In The Life, Part 406

Maggie's smiles. They are as big and full and brilliant and gorgeous and joyful as any smile on this earth which has ever been smiled. She is beatific, imparting, as the dictionary says, "holy bliss."
You cannot look at that face and not smile back. And she laughs, too. Those funny deep baby laughs that make you just want to keep on doing whatever it is you are doing to make her laugh for as long as she'll keep responding.

We met up for lunch and our friend Liz Sparks came too and she held both babies, loving on each of them, sniffing heads and making goo-goo eyes. August stood on Uncle Hank's belly and stretched up tall, with Hank holding him, waving and flapping his arms like a baby eagle, ready to take flight. It was hysterical and beautiful and you'd think by now that just thinking about my grandchildren wouldn't make me tear up but it does.
It does.

Well. Yes. Lucille died sometime between noon and two-thirty which was when I got home. I came in and changed my clothes and got a shovel and dug a little grave under the giant oak where the honeybees hive and carefully laid her in and covered her up.
Still no idea why she died. She was young, a young hen.
So it goes. So it goes. I am glad she was not suffering for long and honestly, I do not think she was conscious when I found her this morning but far into the process, moving along that path.

The baby chicks loved being outside. Or at least it seemed as if they did. I gave them garden greens and they tore at them with their dinosaur beaks and they scratched in the dirt with their dinosaur feet. I thought the other chickens would pay them more attention than they did but I only saw Lisa Marie peering at them through the screen and I saw neither cat giving them even a glance but you know cats- they are clever and sneaky and if the did have interest in them, they would pretend otherwise. And the babies can run into the boxed in part of the coop if they feel afraid where the cats can't see them at all and it would take a far bigger cat than either Maurice of Jack to breech that coop. Like a lynx. They're back in their bathtub home now for the night and tomorrow I shall take them out again.

Speaking of cats, I just saw Maurice staring intently at the bluebird box where I am almost sure there are babies. I whistled at her and yelled, "Maurice, NO!" and she broke her stalking stance and now she's back in the house and I gave both her and Jack some Temptations for being such good cats and not killing birds and because I'm a fool.

I really do not consider myself to be an extreme animal lover on any level and yet, the animals which I do love, I simply love. Not like I love my friends or my husband or my children or my grandchildren and perhaps it isn't even love at all but simply a respect and appreciation for the other creatures who share my life and make it so much more interesting. And that would include the bluebirds.

I'm going to shut up now because I'm only rambling.

I'm tired. Let us all sleep well tonight and perhaps, if we are as lucky as lucky can be, we will dream of smiling babies.

Love...Ms. Moon


  1. This makes me hopeful to be a grandmother someday. My kids-still 10 and 15-seems so far, yet so close. I'm sorry Lucille has gone, but so glad she didn't suffer long.

  2. I'm sorry about Lucille. I love that you dug her a grave and cradled her this morning. She knew you loved her. Oh Maggie. I hope one day you will record her giggling for us. I bet that is the sweetest sound. I can just try to imagine it all. August waving his little arms... All part of life's journey.

  3. I love Maggie's smile! How can it not just make you tear up, seeing all that pure joy emanate from that perfect face! And I'm sorry about Ms Lucille. I choose to think (hope) that in fact she did not suffer at all......she was merely transitioning as she was supposed to..... with her chicken sisters to help guide her. Sounds odd.....but that is how I *deal* with my periodic chicken losses. That, and plenty of tears and sniffling. Your baby chickies are there to lavish more love onto
    Susan M

  4. So sorry for your loss. As for cause, did she seem a little bloated to you? Lots of possibilities from oviduct impaction to the chicken equivalent of fatty liver disease or congestive heart failure. Bottom line their little bodies are not as sophisticated or durable as ours and their lives by nature are very brief. Glad you have baby giggles to cheer you.


  5. Having animals in our lives teaches us so much. About life and death, but also about ourselves. They are great for helping children learn about life and it's cycles. We still bury ours little dears when they die. Well...except when it's the middle of the frozen winter, then we commend them to Mother Earth's arms and give them to the forest dwellers so that they may continue on.

  6. what a sweet picture of Maggie. and of course we are much richer for our animal friends and companions, even the ones who slither into the house uninvited.

  7. Oh Mary, her smile is as brilliant as the sun. How do you stand it? She's absolutely gorgeously adorable!

  8. Oh, I'm sorry to hear about Lucille. But as she goes, the baby chicks come. That's the way of the world, isn't it?

  9. You're right, Lucille did not suffer long, and that is one thing to be grateful for.

    Maggie's smile is so, so big - I smiled just looking at her picture.

  10. i am so sorry to hear about your beloved lucille.

    there is no such thing as just an animal. she was more than an oridinary hen, she was your hen!



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